UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

OIKT   OF- 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALS WORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No./0  .      Class  No. 


THE 


OLD  ROMAN  WORLD; 


THE 


GRANDEUR  AND  FAILURE  OF  ITS  CIVILIZATION 


BY 


JOHN  LORD,  LL.D. 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER  AND   COMPANY 

1867 


' '  f 


Lf 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 

JOHN  LOED, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Connecticut 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 

STEREOTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY 

H.  0.  HOUQ1ITON  AND  COMPANY 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE    CONQUESTS    OF    THE    ROMANS. 

PAOB 

Early  History  of  Rome  —  Wars  under  the  Kings  —  Their  Results 

—  Gradual  Subjection  of  Italy  —  Great  Heroes  of  the  Repub 
lic  —  Their  Virtues  and  Victories  —  Military  Aggrandizement 

—  The  Carthaginian,  Macedonian,  and  Asiatic  Wars  —  Their 
Consequences  —  Civil  Wars  of  Marius  and  Sulla,  of  Pompey 
and  Caesar  —  The  Conquests  of  the  Barbarians  —  Extension  of 
Roman  Dominion  in  the  East  —  Conquests  of  the  Emperors  — 
The  Military  Forces  of  the  Empire  —  Military  Science  — The 
Roman  Legion  —  The  Military  Genius  of  the  Romans, 19 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE    MATERIAL    GRANDEUR    AND    GLORY   OF    THE    ROMAN 
EMPIRE. 

The  vast  Extent  of  the  Empire  —  Boundaries  —  Rivers  and 
Mountains  —  The  Mediterranean  and  its  Islands  —  The  Prov 
inces —  Principal  Cities  —  Great  Architectural  Monuments  — 
Roads  —  Commerce  —  Agriculture  —  Manufactures  —  Wealth 

—  Population  —  Unity  of  the  Empire, 71 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE    WONDERS    OF    ANCIENT    ROME. 

Original  Settlement  —  The  Seven  Hills  —  Progress  of  the  City 

—  Principal  Architectural  Monuments  —  A  Description  of  the 
Temples,  Bridges,  Aqueducts,  Forums,  Basilicas,  Palaces,  Am 
phitheatres,  Theatres,  Circuses,  Columns,  Arches,  Baths,  Obe- 


iv  Contents. 

PAGE 

lisks,  Tombs  —  Miscellaneous  Antiquities  —  Streets  —  Gardens 

—  Private  Houses  —  Populous  Quarters  —  Famous  Statues  and 
Pictures  —  General  Magnificence  —  Population, 100 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ART    IN    THE    ROMAN   EMPIRE. 

The  great  Wonders  of  Ancient  Architecture,  Sculpture,  and 
Painting  —  Famous  Artists  of  Antiquity  —  How  far  the  Ro 
mans  copied  the  Greeks  —  How  far  they  extended  Art  —  Its 
Principles  —  Its  Perfection  —  Causes  of  its  Decline  —  Perma 
nence  of  its  grand  Creations, 139 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   ROMAN   CONSTITUTION. 

The  Original  Citizens  —  Comitia  Calata  —  Comitia  Curiata  — 
Comitia  Centuriata  —  Comitia  Tributa  —  The  Plebs  —  Great 
Patrician  Families  —  The  Aristocratic  Structure  of  ancient  Ro 
man  Society  —  The  Dignity  and  Power  of  the  Senate  —  The 
Knights  —  The  Growth  of  the  Democracy  —  Contests  between 
Patricians  and  Plebeians  —  Rise  of  Tribunes  —  Popular  Lead 
ers  —  Their  Laws  —  The  Great  Officers  of  State  —  Provincial 
Governors  —  Usurpations  of  fortunate  Generals  —  The  Revo 
lution  under  Julius  Cassar  and  Augustus  —  Imperial  Despotism 

—  Preservation  of  the  Forms  of  the  Republic,  and  utter  Pros* 
tration  of  its  Spirit, 189 

CHAPTER   VI. 

ROMAN    JURISPRUDENCE. 

Genius  of  the  Romans  for  Government  and  Laws  —  Develop 
ment  of  Jurisprudence  —  Legislative  Sources  —  Judicial  Power 

—  Courts  of  Law  —  The  Profession  of  Law  —  Great  Lawyers 
and  Jurists — Ancient  Codes  —  Imperial  Codes  —  The  Law  of 
Persons — Rights  of  Citizens,  of  Foreigners,  of  Slaves  —  Laws 
of  Marriage,   of  Divorce,   of  Adoption  —  Paternal   Power  — 
Guardianship  —  Laws  relating  to  Real  Rights  —  Law  of  Obli 
gations —  Laws  of  Succession  —  Testaments  and  Legacies  — 
Actions  and  Procedure  in  Civil  Suits  —  Criminal  Law, 2"23 


Contents. 
CHAPTER  VII. 

ROMAN    LITERATURE. 


PA6Z 


The  Grecian  Models  —  How  far  they  contributed  to  Roman  Cre 
ations  —  The  Development  of  the  Latin  Language  —  The  Or 
ators,  Poets,  Dramatists,  Satirists,  Historians,  and  their  chief 
Works  —  How  far  Literature  was  cultivated  —  Schools  —  Li 
braries  —  Literary  Legacies  of  the  Romans, 262 

CHAPTER  VHI. 

GRECIAN   PHILOSOPHY. 

Its  gradual  Development  from  Thales  to  Aristotle  —  How  far 
the  Romans  adopted  the  Greek  Philosophy  —  What  Additions 
they  made  to  it  —  How  far  it  modified  Roman  Thought  and 
Life  —  Influence  of  Philosophy  on  Christianity  —  Influence  on 
modern  Civilization, 30G 

CHAPTER  IX. 

SCIENTIFIC    KNOWLEDGE    AMONG    THE    ROMANS. 

The  Mathematical  Genius  of  the  Old  Astronomers  —  Their  La 
bors  and  Discoveries  —  Extent  of  Astronomical  Knowledge  — 
The  Alexandrian  School  —  The  Science  of  Geometry  and  how 
far  carried  —  Great  Names  —  Medicine  —  Geography  —  Other 
Physical  Sciences  and  their  limited  Triumphs, 353 

CHAPTER  X. 

INTERNAL   CONDITION   OF   THE   ROMAN   EMPIRE. 

The  Vices  and  Miseries  of  Roman  Society  —  Social  Inequalities 
—  Disproportionate  Fortunes  — The  Wealth  and  Corruption 
of  Nobles—  Degradation  of  the  People  —  Vast  Extent  of  Slav 
ery  —  The  Condition  of  AVomen  —  Demoralizing  Games  and 
Spectacles  —  Excessive  Luxury  and  squalid  Misery  —  Money- 
making—imperial  Misrule  —  Universal  Egotism  and  Insen 
sibility  to  grand  Sentiments  —  Hopelessness  of  Reform  —  Prep 
aration  for  Ruin, ,  387 


vi  Contents. 

CHAPTER   XL 

THE   FALL   OF    THE    EMPIRE. 

PAGE 

False  Security  of  the  Roman  People  —  Their  stupendous  Delu 
sions  —  The  Invasion  of  Barbarians —  Their  Characteristics  — 
Their  alternate  Victory  and  Defeat  —  Desolation  of  the  Prov- 
inces  —  The  Degeneracy  of  the  Legions  —  General  Imbecility 
and  Cowardice  —  Great  public  Misfortunes  —  General  Union 
of  the  Germanic  Nations  —  Their  Leaders  —  Noble  but  vain 
Efforts  of  a  Succession  of  warlike  Emperors  —  The  rising 
Tide  of  Barbarians  —  Their  irresistible  Advance  —  The  Siege 
and  Sack  of  Rome  — The  Fall  of  Cities  —  Miseries  of  all 
Classes  —  Universal  Despair  and  Ruin  —  The  Greatness  of  the 
Catastrophe  —  Reflections  on  the  Fall  of  Rome, 436 

CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  REASONS  WHY  THE  CONSERVATIVE  INFLUENCES  OF 
PAGAN  CIVILIZATION  DID  NOT  ARREST  THE  RUIN  OF 
THE  ROMAN  WORLD. 

Necessary  Corruption  of  all  Institutions  under  Paganism  —  Glory 
succeeded  by  Shame  —  The  Army  a  worn-out  Mechanism  — 
The  low  Aims  of  Government  —  Difficulties  of  the  Emperors 
—  Laws  perverted  or  unenforced  —  The  Degeneracy  of  Art  — 
The  Frivolity  of  Literature  —  The  imperfect  Triumph  of  Phi 
losophy  —  Nothing  Conservative  in  human  Creations  —  Neces 
sity  of  Aid  from  foreign  and  Divine  Sources, 493 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHY    CHRISTIANITY    DID   NOT   ARREST   THE    RUIN   OF    THE 
ROMAN    EMPIRE. 

The  Victories  of  Christianity  came  too  late  —  Small  Number  of 
Converts  when  Christianity  was  a  renovating  Power — Their 
comparative  Unimportance  in  a  political  and  social  View  for 
three  Centuries  —  The  Church  constructs  a  Polity  for  Itself 
rather  than  seeks  to  change  established  Institutions  —  Rapid 
Corruption  of  Christianity  when  established,  and  Adoption  of 
Pagan  Ideas  and  Influences  —  No  Renovation  of  worn-out 
Races  —  No  Material  on  which  Christianity  could  work  —  Not 


Contents.  v» 

PAOB 

the  Mission  of  the  Church  to  save  Empires,  but  the  Race  — 
A  diseased  Body  must  die, 537 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  LEGACY  OF  THE  EARLY  CHURCH  TO  FUTURE  GEN 
ERATIONS. 

The  great  Ideas  which  the  Fathers  propounded  —  The  Principle  of 
Self-sacrifice,  seen  especially  in  early  Martyrdoms— The  Idea 
of  Benevolence  in  connection  with  public  and  private  Chari 
ties—Importance  of  public  Preaching  —  Pulpit  Oratory  — 
The  Elaboration  of  Christian  Doctrine  —  Its  Connection  with 
Philosophy— Church  Psalmody  — The  Principle  of  Christian 
Equality  —  Its  Effects  on  Slavery  and  the  Elevation  of  the 
People —The  Social  Equality  of  the  Sexes  —  Superiority  in 
the  condition  of  the  modern  over  the  ancient  Woman  —  The 
Idea  of  Popular  Education  —  The  Unity  of  the  Church, 576 


IVERSITY 


INTRODUCTION. 


I  PROPOSE  to  describe  the  Greatness  and  the  Misery  of 
the  old  Roman  world ;  nor  is  there  any  thing  in  history 
more  suggestive  and  instructive. 

A  little  city,  founded  by  robbers  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tiber,  rises  gradually  into  importance,  although  the  great 
cities  of  the  East  are  scarcely  conscious  of  its  existence.  Its 
early  struggles  simply  arrest  the  attention,  and  excite  the 
jealousy,  of  the  neighboring  nations.  The  citizens  of  this 
little  state  are  warriors,  and,  either  for  defense  or  glory, 
they  subdue  one  after  another  the  cities  of  Latium  and 
Etruria,  then  the  whole  of  Italy,  and  finally  the  old 
monarchies  and  empires  of  the  world.  In  two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  the  citizens  have  become  nobles,  and  a 
great  aristocracy  is  founded,  which  lasts  eight  hundred 
years.  Their  aggressive  policy  and  unbounded  ambition 
involve  the  whole  world  in  war,  which  does  not  cease 
until  all  the  nations  known  to  the  Greeks  acknowledge 
their  sway.  Everywhere  Roman  laws,  language,  and  in 
stitutions  spread.  A  vast  empire  arises,  larger  than  the 
Assyrian  and  the  Macedonian  combined,  —  a  universal 
empire,  —  a  great  wonder  and  mystery,  having  all  the 
grandeur  of  a  providential  event.  It  becomes  too  great 
to  be  governed  by  an  oligarchy  of  nobles.  Civil  wars 
create  an  imperator,  who,  uniting  in  himself  all  the  great 
offices  of  state,  and  sustained  by  the  conquering  legions, 
rules  from  East  to  West  and  from  North  to  South,  with 
absolute  and  undivided  sovereignty.  The  Caesars  reach 
the  summit  of  human  greatness  and  power,  and  the  city 


10  Introduction. 

of  Romulus  becomes  the  haughty  mistress  of  the  world. 
The  emperor  is  worshiped  as  a  deity,  and  the  proud  me 
tropolis  calls  herself  eternal.  An  empire  is  established  by 
force  of  arms  and  by  a  uniform  policy,  such  as  this  world 
has  not  seen  before  or  since. 

Early  Roman  history  is  chiefly  the  detail  of  successful 
wars,  aggressive  and  uncompromising,  in  which  we  see  a 
fierce  and  selfish  patriotism,  an  indomitable  will,  a  hard 
unpitying  temper,  great  practical  sagacity,  patience,  and 
perseverance,  superiority  to  adverse  fortune,  faith  in  na 
tional  destinies,  heroic  sentiments,  and  grand  ambition. 
We  see  a  nation  of  citizen  soldiers,  an  iron  race  of  con 
querors,  bent  on  conquest,  on  glory,  on  self-exaltation, 
attaching  but  little  value  to  the  individual  man,  but  exalt 
ing  the  integrity  and  unity  of  the  state.  We  see  no  fitful 
policy,  no  abandonment  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  fruits  of 
victory,  no  rest,  no  repose,  no  love  of  art  or  literature,  but 
an  unbounded  passion  for  domination.  The  Romans  toiled, 
and  suffered,  and  died,  —  never  wearied,  never  discour 
aged,  never  satisfied,  until  their  mission  was  accomplished 
and  the  world  lay  bleeding  and  prostrate  at  their  feet. 

In  the  latter  days  of  the  Republic,  the  Roman  citizen, 
originally  contented  with  a  few  acres  in  the  plains  and  val 
leys  through  which  the  Tiber  flowed,  becomes  a  great 
landed  proprietor,  owning  extensive  estates  in  the  con 
quered  territories,  an  aristocrat,  a  knight,  a  senator,  a  no 
ble,  while  his  dependents  disdained  to  labor  and  were  fed 
at  the  public  expense.  The  state  could  afford  to  give 
them  corn,  oil,  and  wine,  for  it  was  the  owner  of  Egypt, 
of  Greece,  of  Asia  Minor,  of  Syria,  of  Spain,  of  Gaul,  of 
Africa,  —  a  belt  of  territory  around  the  Mediterranean 
Sea  one  thousand  miles  in  breadth,  embracing  the  whole 
temperate  zone,  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to  the  wilds  of 
Scythia.  The  Romans  revel  in  the  spoils  of  the  nations 
they  have  conquered,  adorn  their  capital  with  the  won 
ders  of  Grecian  art,  and  abandon  themselves  to  pleasure 


Introduction.  11 

and  money-making.  The  Roman  grandees  divide  among 
themselves  the  lands  and  riches  of  the  world,  and  this 
dwelling-place  of  princes  looms  up  the  proud  centre  of 
mundane  glory  and  power. 

In  the  great  success  of  the  Romans,  we  notice  not  only 
their  own  heroic  qualities,  but  the  hopeless  degeneracy  of 
the  older  nations  and  the  reckless  turbulence  of  the  west 
ern  barbarians,  both  of  whom  needed  masters. 

The  conquered  world  must  be  governed.  The  Romans 
had  a  genius  for  administration  as  well  as  for  war.  While 
war  was  reduced  to  a  science,  government  became  an  art. 
Seven  hundred  years  of  war  and  administration  gave  ex 
perience  and  skill,  and  the  wisdom  thus  learned  became  a 
legacy  to  future  civilizations. 

It  was  well,  both  for  enervated  orientals  and  wild  bar 
barians,  to  be  ruled  by  such  iron  masters.  The  nations 
at  last  enjoyed  peace  and  prosperity,  and  Christianity  was 
born  and  spread.  A  new  power  silently  arose,  which  was 
destined  to  change  government,  and  science,  and  all  the 
relations  of  social  life,  and  lay  a  foundation  for  a  new  and 
more  glorious  structure  of  society  than  what  Paganism 
could  possibly  create.  We  see  the  hand  of  Providence  in 
all  these  mighty  changes,  and  it  is  equally  august  in  over 
ruling  the  glories  and  the  shame  of  a  vast  empire  for  the 
ultimate  good  of  the  human  race. 

If  we  more  minutely  examine  the  history  of  either  Re 
publican  or  Imperial  Rome,  we  read  lessons  of  great  sig 
nificance.  In  the  Republic  we  see  a  constant  war  of 
classes  and  interests,  —  plebeians  arrayed  against  patri 
cians  ;  the  poor  opposed  to  the  rich ;  the  struggle  be 
tween  capital  and  labor,  between  an  aristocracy  and  ole- 
mocracy.  Although  the  favored  classes  on  the  whole 
retained  ascendancy,  yet  the  people  constantly  gained  priv 
ileges,  and  at  last  were  enabled,  by  throwing  their  influ 
ence  into  the  hands  of  demagogues,  to  overturn  the  consti 
tution.  Julius  Caesar,  the  greatest  name  in  ancient  his- 


12  Introduction. 

tory,  himself  a  patrician,  by  courting  the  people  triumphed 
over  the  aristocratical  oligarchy  and  introduced  a  new 
regime.  His  dictatorship  was  the  consummation  of  the 
victories  of  the  people  over  nobles  as  signally  as  the  sub 
mission  of  all  classes  to  fortunate  and  unscrupulous  gen 
erals. 

We  err,  however,  in  supposing  that  the  Republic  was 
ever  a  democracy,  as  we  understand  the  term,  or  as  it  was 
understood  in  Athens.  Power  was  always  in  the  hands 
of  senators,  nobles,  and  rich  men,  as  it  still  is  in  England, 
and  was  in  Venice.  Popular  liberty  was  a  name,  and 
democratic  institutions  were  feeble  and  shackled.  The 
citizen-noble  was  free,  not  the  proletarian.  The  latter  had 
the  redress  of  laws,  but  only  such  as  the  former  gave. 
How  exclusive  must  have  been  an  aristocracy  when  the 
Claudian  family  boasted  that,  for  five  hundred  years,  it 
had  never  received  any  one  into  it  by  adoption,  and  when 
the  Emperor  Nero  was  the  first  who  received  its  privi 
leges  !  It  is  with  the  senatorial  families,  who  contrived 
to  retain  all  the  great  offices  of  the  state,  that  everything 
interesting  in  the  history  of  Republican  Rome  is  identified, 
—  whether  political  quarrels,  or  private  feuds,  or  legisla 
tion,  or  the  control  of  armies,  or  the  improvements  of  the 
city,  or  the  government  of  provinces.  It  was  they,  as  sen 
ators,  governors,  consuls,  generals,  quaestors,  who  gave  the 
people  baths,  theatres,  and  temples.  They  headed  factions 
as  well  as  armies.  They  were  the  state. 

The  main  object  to  which  the  reigning  classes  gave 
their  attention  was  war,  —  the  extension  of  the  empire. 
"  Ubi  castra^  ibi  respublica.*'  Republican  Rome  was  a 
camp,  controlled  by  aristocratic  generals.  Dominion  and 
conquest  were  their  great  ideas,  their  aim,  their  ambition. 
To  these  were  sacrificed  pleasure,  gain,  ease,  luxury, 
learning,  and  art.  And  when  they  had  conquered  they 
sought  to  rule,  and  they  knew  how  to  rule.  Aside  from 
conquest  and  government  there  is  nothing  peculiarly  im- 


Introduction.  13 

pressive  in  Roman  history,  except  the  struggles  of  political 
leaders  and  the  war  of  classes. 

But  in  these  there  is  wonderful  fascination.  The 
mythic  period  under  kings ;  the  contests  with  Latins, 
Etruscans,  Volscians,  Samnites,  and  Gauls;  the  legends 
of  Porsenna,  of  Cincinnatus,  of  Coriolanus,  of  Virginia ; 
the  heroism  of  Camillus,  of  Fabius,  of  Decius,  of  Scipio ; 
the  great  struggle  with  Pyrrhus  and  Hannibal ;  the  wars 
with  Carthage,  Macedonia,  and  Asia  Minor ;  the  rivalries 
between  patrician  and  plebeian  families ;  the  rise  of  trib 
unes ;  the  Maenian,  Hortensian,  and  Agrarian  laws;  the 
noble  efforts  of  the  Gracchi ;  the  censorship  of  Cato ;  the 
civil  wars  of  Marius  and  Sulla,  and  their  exploits,  followed 
by  the  still  greater  conquests  of  Pompey  and  Julius ;  these, 
and  other  feats  of  heroism  and  strength,  are  full  of  interest 
which  can  never  be  exhausted.  We  ponder  on  them  in 
youth ;  we  return  to  them  in  old  age. 

And  yet  the  real  grandeur  of  Rome  is  associated  with 
the  emperors.  With  their  accession  there  is  a  change  in 
the  policy  of  the  state  from  war  to  peace.  There  is  a 
greater  desire  to  preserve  than  extend  the  limits  of  the 
empire.  The  passion  for  war  is  succeeded  by  a  passion  for 
government  and  laws.  Labor  and  toil  give  place  to  leisure 
and  enjoyment.  Great  works  of  art  appear,  and  these  be 
come  historical,  —  the  Pantheon,  the  Forum  Augusti,  the 
Flavian  Amphitheatre,  the  Column  of  Trajan,  the  Baths 
of  Caracalla,  the  Aqua  Claudia,  the  golden  house  of  Nero, 
the  Mausoleum  of  Hadrian,  the  Temple  of  Venus  and 
Rome,  the  Arch  of  Septimus  Severus.  The  city  is 
changed  from  brick  to  marble,  and  palaces  and  theatres 
and  temples  become  colossal.  Painting  and  sculpture  or 
nament  every  part  of  the  city.  There  are  more  marble 
busts  than  living  men.  Life  becomes  more  complicated 
and  factitious.  Enormous  fortunes  are  accumulated.  A 
liberal  patronage  is  extended  to  artists.  Literature  de 
clines,  but  great  masterpieces  of  genius  are  still  produced. 


14  Introduction. 

Medicine,  law,  and  science  flourish.  A  beautiful  suburban 
life  is  seen  on  all  the  hills,  while  gardens  and  villas  are  the 
object  of  perpetual  panegyric.  From  all  corners  of  the 
earth  strangers  flock  to  see  the  wonders  of  the  mighty  me 
tropolis,  more  crowded  than  London,  more  magnificent 
than  Paris,  more  luxurious  than  New  York.  Fetes,  shows, 
processions,  gladiatorial  combats,  chariot  races,  form  the 
amusement  of  the  vast  populace.  A  majestic  centralized 
power  controls  all  kingdoms,  and  races,  and  peoples.  The 
highest  state  of  prosperity  is  reached  that  the  ancient  world 
knew,  and  all  bow  down  to  Caesar  and  behold  in  him  the 
representative  of  divine  providence,  from  whose  will  there 
is  no  appeal,  and  from  whose  arm  it  is  impossible  to  fly. 

But  mene,  mene,  tekel,  upharsin,  is  written  on  the  walls 
of  the  banqueting  chambers  of  the  palace  of  the  Caesars. 
The  dream  of  omnipotence  is  disturbed  by  the  invasion  of 
Germanic  barbarians.  They  press  toward  the  old  seats 
of  power  and  riches  to  improve  their  condition.  They  are 
warlike,  fierce,  implacable.  They  fear  not  death,  and  are 
urged  onward  by  the  lust  of  rapine  and  military  zeal. 
The  old  legions,  which  penetrated  the  Macedonian  pha 
lanx  and  withstood  the  Gauls,  cannot  resist  the  shock  of 
their  undisciplined  armies ;  for  martial  glory  has  fled,  and 
the  people  prefer  their  pleasures  to  the  empire.  Great 
emperors  are  raised  up,  but  they  are  unequal  to  the  task 
of  preserving  the  crumbling  empire.  The  people,  ener 
vated  and  egotistical,  are  scattered  like  sheep  or  are  made 
slaves.  The  proud  capitals  of  the  world  fall  before  the 
ruthless  invaders.  Desolation  is  everywhere.  The  bar 
barians  trample  beneath  their  heavy  feet  the  proud  tro 
phies  of  ancient  art  and  power.  The  glimmering  life- 
sparks  of  the  old  civilization  disappear.  The  world  is 
abandoned  to  fear,  misery,  and  despair,  and  there  is  no 
help,  for  retributive  justice  marches  on  with  impressive 
solemnity.  Imperial  despotism,  disproportionate  fortunes, 
unequal  divisions  of  society,  the  degradation  of  woman, 


Introduction.  15 

slavery,  Epicurean  pleasures,  practical  atheism,  bring  forth 
their  wretched  fruits.  The  vices  and  miseries  of  society 
cannot  be  arrested.  Glory  is  succeeded  by  shame ;  all 
strength  is  in  mechanism,  and  that  wears  out ;  vitality 
passes  away ;  the  empire  is  weak  from  internal  decay,  and 
falls  easily  into  the  hands  of  the  new  races.  "  Violence 
was  only  a  secondary  cause  of  the  ruin ;  the  vices  of  self- 
interest  were  the  primary  causes.  A  world,  as  fair  and 
glorious  as  our  own,  crumbles  away."  Our  admiration 
is  changed  to  sadness  and  awe.  The  majesty  of  man  is 
rebuked  by  the  majesty  of  God. 

Such  a  history  is  suggestive.  Why  was  such  an  empire 
permitted  to  rise  over  the  bleeding  surface  of  the  world, 
and  what  was  its  influence  on  the  general  destiny  of  the 
race  ?  How  far  has  its  civilization  perished,  and  how  far 
has  it  entered  into  new  combinations  ?  Was  its  strength 
material,  or  moral,  or  intellectual?  How  far  did  litera 
ture,  art,  science,  laws,  philosophy,  prove  conservative 
forces?  Why  did  Christianity  fail  to  arrest  so  total  an 
eclipse  of  the  glory  of  man  ?  Why  did  a  magnificent  civ 
ilization  prove  so  feeble  a  barrier  against  corruption  and 
decay  ?  Why  was  the  world  to  be  involved  in  such  uni 
versal  gloom  and  wretchedness  as  followed  the  great  catas 
trophe  ?  Could  nothing  arrest  the  stupendous  downfall  ? 

And  when  we  pass  from  the  great  facts  of  Roman  his 
tory  to  the  questions  which  it  suggests  to  a  contemplative 
mind  in  reference  to  the  state  of  society  among  ourselves, 
on  which  history  ought  to  shed  light,  what  enigmas  remain 
to  be  solved.  Does  moral  worth  necessarily  keep  pace 
with  aesthetic  culture,  or  intellectual  triumphs,  or  material 
strength?  Do  the  boasted  triumphs  of  civilization  create 
those  holy  certitudes  on  which  happiness  is  based  ?  Can 
vitality  in  states  be  preserved  by  mechanical  inventions  ? 
Does  society  expand  from  inherent  laws  of  development, 
or  from  influences  altogether  foreign  to  man  ?  Is  it  the 
settled  destiny  of  nations  to  rise  to  a  certain  height  in  wis- 


16  Introduction. 

dom  and  power,  and  then  pass  away  in  ignominy  and 
gloom  ?  Is  there  permanence  in  any  human  institutions  ? 
Will  society  move  round  in  perpetual  circles,  incapable  of 
progression  and  incapable  of  rest,  or  will  it  indefinitely  im 
prove  ?  May  there  not  be  the  highest  triumphs  of  art, 
literature,  and  science,  where  the  mainsprings  of  society 
are  sensuality  and  egotism?  Is  the  tendency  of  society 
to  democratic,  or  aristocratic,  or  despotic  governments? 
Does  Christianity,  in  this  dispensation,  merely  furnish 
witnesses  of  truth,  or  will  it  achieve  successive  conquests 
over  human  degeneracy  till  the  race  is  emancipated  and 
saved  ?  Can  it  arrest  the  downward  tendency  of  society, 
when  it  is  undermined  by  vices  which  blunt  the  conscience 
of  mankind,  and  which  are  sustained  by  all  that  is  proud 
in  rank,  brilliant  in  fashion,  and  powerful  in  wealth  ? 

These  are  inquiries  on  which  Roman  history  sheds  light. 
If  history  is  a  guide  or  oracle,  they  are  full  of  impressive 
significance.  Can  we  afford  to  reject  all  the  examples  of 
the  past  in  our  sanguine  hopes  for  the  future?  Human 
nature  is  the  same  in  any  age,  and  human  experiences 
point  to  some  great  elemental  truths,  which  the  Bible  con 
firms.  We  may  be  unmoved  by  them,  but  they  remain  in 
solemn  dignity  for  all  generations ;  "  and  foremost  of 
them,"  as  Charles  Kingsley  has  so  well  said,  "  stands  a 
law  which  man  has  been  trying  in  all  ages,  as  now,  to 
deny,  or  at  least  to  ignore,  and  that  is,  —  that  as  the  fruit 
of  righteousness  is  wealth  and  peace,  strength  and  honor, 
the  fruit  of  unrighteousness  is  poverty  and  anarchy,  weak 
ness  and  shame ;  for  not  upon  mind,  but  upon  morals,  is 
human  welfare  founded.  Science  is  indeed  great ;  but  she 
is  not  the  greatest.  She  is  an  instrument,  and  not  a 
power.  But  her  lawful  mistress,  the  only  one  under 
whom  she  can  truly  grow,  and  prosper,  and  prove  her 
divine  descent,  is  Virtue,  the  likeness  of  Almighty  God, 
—  an  ancient  doctrine,  yet  one  ever  young,  and  which  no 
discoveries  in  science  will  ever  abrogate." 


Introduction.  17 

Hence  the  great  aim  of  history  should  be  a  dispassionate 
inquiry  into  the  genius  of  past  civilizations,  especially  in  a 
moral  point  of  view.  Wherein  were  they  weak  or  strong, 
vital  or  mechanical,  permanent  or  transient?  We  wish  to 
know  that  we  may  compare  them  with  our  own,  and  learn 
lessons  of  wisdom.  The  rise  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Em 
pire  is  especially  rich  in  the  facts  which  bear  on  our  own 
development.  Nor  can  modern  history  be  comprehended 
without  a  survey  of  the  civilization  which  has  entered  into 
our  own,  and  forms  the  basis  of  many  of  our  own  institu 
tions.  Rome  perished,  but  not  wholly  her  civilization. 
So  far  as  it  was  founded  on  the  immutable  principles  of 
justice,  or  beauty,  or  love,  it  will  never  die,  but  will  re 
main  a  precious  legacy  to  all  generations.  So  far  as  it  was 
founded  on  pride,  injustice,  and  selfishness,  it  ignobly  dis 
appeared.  Men  die,  and  their  trophies  of  pride  are  buried 
in  the  dust,  but  their  truths  live.  All  truth  is  indestructi 
ble,  and  survives  both  names  and  marbles. 

Roman  history,  so  grand  and  so  mournful,  on  the  whole 
suggests  cheering  views  for  humanity,  since  out  of  the 
ruins,  amid  the  storms,  aloft  above  the  conflagration,  there 
came  certain  indestructible  forces,  which,  when  united  with 
Christianity,  developed  a  new  and  more  glorious  condition 
of  humanity.  Creation  succeeded  destruction.  All  that 
was  valuable  in  art,  in  science,  in  literature,  in  philosophy, 
in  laws,  has  been  preserved.  The  useless  alone  has  per 
ished  with  the  worn-out  races  themselves.  The  light 
which  scholars,  and  artists,  and  poets,  and  philosophers, 
and  lawgivers  kindled,  illuminated  the  path  of  the  future 
guides  of  mankind.  And  especially  the  great  ideas  which 
the  persecuted  Christians  unfolded,  projected  themselves 
into  the  shadows  of  mediaeval  Europe,  and  gave  a  new 
direction  to  human  thought  and  life.  New  sentiments 
arose,  more  poetic  and  majestic  than  ever  existed  in  the 
ancient  world,  giving  radiance  to  homes,  peace  to  families, 
elevation  to  woman,  liberty  to  the  slave,  compassion  for  the 


18  Introduction. 

miserable,  self-respect  to  the  man  of  toil,  exultation  to  the 
martyr,  patience  to  the  poor,  and  glorious  hopes  to  all  ; 
so  that  in  rudeness,  in  poverty,  in  discomfort,  in  slavery, 
in  isolation,  in  obloquy,  peace  and  happiness  were  born, 
and  a  new  race,  with  noble  elements  of  character,  arose  in 
the  majesty  of  renovated  strength  to  achieve  still  grander 
victories,  and  confer  higher  blessings  on  mankind. 

Thus  the  Roman  Empire,  whose  fall  was  so  inglorious, 
and  whose  chastisement  was  so  severe,  was  made  by  Prov 
idence  to  favor  the  ultimate  progress  of  society,  since  its 
civilization  entered  into  new  combinations,  and  still  re 
mains  one  of  the  proudest  monuments  of  human  genius. 

It  is  this  civilization,  in  its  varied  aspects,  both  good 
and  evil,  lofty  and  degraded,  which  in  the  following  chap 
ters  I  seek  to  show.  This  is  the  real  point  of  interest  in 
Roman  history.  Let  us  see  what  the  Romans  really  ac 
complished  —  the  results  of  their  great  enterprises  ;  the  sys 
tems  they  matured  with  so  much  thought ;  the  institutions 
they  bequeathed  to  our  times  ;  yea,  even  those  vices  and 
follies  which  they  originally  despised,  and  which,  if  allowed 
to  become  dominant,  must,  according  to  all  those  laws 
of  which  we  have  cognizance,  ultimately  overwhelm  any 
land  in  misery,  shame,  and  ruin. 

In  presenting  this  civilization,  I  aim  to  generalize  the 
most  important  facts,  leaving  the  reader  to  examine  at 
his  leisure  recondite  authorities,  in  which,  too  often,  the 
argument  is  obscured  by  minute  details,  and  art  is  buried 
in  learning. 


THE    OLD    ROMAN    WORLD. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE    CONQUESTS    OF    THE    ROMANS. 

ONE  of  the  features  of  Roman  greatness,  which  preemi 
nently  arrests  attention,  is  military  genius  and  strength. 
The  Romans  surpassed  all  the  nations  of  antiquity  in  the 
brilliancy  and  solidity  of  their  conquests.  They  conquered 
the  world,  and  held  it  in  subjection.  For  many  centuries 
they  stamped  their  iron  heel  on  the  necks  of  prostrate  and 
suppliant  kings,  from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  to  the  Caspian 
Sea.  Nothing  could  impede,  except  for  a  time,  their  irre 
sistible  progress  from  conquering  to  conquer.  They  were 
warriors  from  the  earliest  period  of  their  history,  and  all 
their  energies  were  concentrated  upon  conquest.  Their 
aggressive  policy  never  changed  so  long  as  there  was  a 
field  for  its  development.  They  commenced  as  a  band 
of  robbers  ;  they  ended  by  becoming  masters  of  all  the 
countries  and  kingdoms  which  tempted  their  cupidity  or 
aroused  their  ambition.  Their  empire  was  universal,  —  the 
only  universal  empire  which  ever  existed  on  this  earth,  — 
and  it  was  won  with  the  sword.  It  was  not  a  rapid  con 
quest,  but  it  was  systematic  and  irresistible,  evincing  great 
genius,  perseverance,  and  fortitude. 

The  successive  and  fortunate  conquests  of  the  Romans 
were  the  admiration,  the  envy,  and  the  fear  of  all  ^Romans 
nations—  so  marvelous  and  successful  that  they  fixed  purpose 


20  TJie   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

have  the  majesty  of  a  providential  event.  They  cannot  be 
called  a  mystery,  since  we  see  the  persistent  adaptation  of 
means  to  an  end.  But  no  other  nation  ever  evinced  this 
uniform  military  policy,  except  for  a  limited  period,  or 
under  the  stimulus  of  a  temporary  enthusiasm,  such  as 
characterized  the  Saracens  and  the  Germanic  barbarians. 
The  Romans  fought  when  there  was  no  apparent  need  of 
fighting,  when  their  empire  already  embraced  most  of  the 
countries  known  to  the  ancients.  The  Egyptians,  the 
Assyrians,  the  Persians,  and  the  Greeks  made  magnificent 
conquests,  but  their  empire  was  partial  and  limited,  and 
soon  passed  away.  The  Greeks  evinced  great  military 
genius,  and  the  enterprises  of  Alexander  have  been  re 
garded  as  a  wonder.  But  the  Greeks  did  not  fight,  as  the 
Romans  did,  from  a  fixed  purpose  to  bring  all  nations  under 
their  sway,  and  they  yielded,  in  turn,  to  the  Romans.  The 
Romans  were  never  subdued,  but  all  nations  were  subdued 
by  them  —  even  superior  races.  They  erected  a  universal 
monarchy,  which  fell  to  pieces  by  its  own  weight,  when  the 
vices  of  self-interest  had  accomplished  their  work.  They 
became  the  prey  of  barbarians  in  a  very  different  sense  from 
that  which  reduced  the  ancient  empires.  They  did  not 
yield  to  any  powerful,  warlike  neighbor,  as  the  Persians 
yielded  to  the  Greeks,  but  to  successive  waves  of  unknown 
warriors  who  came  in  quest  of  settlement,  and  then  only 
when  all  Roman  vigor  had  fled,  and  the  whole  policy  of 
the  empire  was  changed  —  when  it  was  the  aim  of  emper 
ors  to  conserve  old  conquests,  not  make  new  ones. 

With  the  Romans,  for  a  thousand  years,  war  was  a  pas- 
warapas-      sion  ;  and,  while  it  lasted,  it  consumed  all  other 

sion  with  the  . 

Romans.  passions.  It  animated  statesmen,  rulers,  gen 
erals,  and  citizens  alike,  ever  burning,  never  at  rest,  —  a 
passion  unscrupulous,  resistless,  all-pervading,  all-absorb 
ing,  all-conquering.  Success  in  war  gave  consideration, 
dignity,  honor  beyond  all  other  successes.  It  always  has 
called  out  popular  admiration,  and  its  glory  has  ever  been 


CHAP.  I.]  Roman  Military  Art.    *  21 

highly  prized,  and  it  always  will  be  so,  but  it  has  not 
monopolized  all  offices  and  dignities  as  among  the  Ro 
mans.  The  Greeks  thought  of  art,  of  literature,  and  of  phi 
losophy  as  well  as  of  war,  and  gave  their  crowns  of  glory  for 
civic  and  artistic  excellence  as  well  as  for  military  success. 
The  Greeks  fought  to  preserve  or  extend  their  civilization  ; 
the  Romans,  in  order  to  rule.  They  had  very  little  respect 
for  any  thing  beyond  military  genius.  The  successful  war 
rior  alone  was  the  founder  of  a  great  family.  The  Roman 
aristocracy,  so  proud,  so  rich,  so  powerful,  was  based  on 
the  glory  of  battle-fields.  Every  citizen  was  trained  to 
arms,  and  senators  and  statesmen  commanded  armies. 
The  whole  fabric  of  the  State  was  built  up  on  war,  and 
for  many  centuries  it  was  the  leading  occupation  of  the 
people.  How  insignificant  was  a  poet,  or  a  painter,  or  a 
philosopher  by  the  side  of  a  warrior !  Rome  was  a  city 
of  generals,  and  they  preoccupied  the  public  mind. 

To  a  Roman,  military  art  was  the  highest  of  all.  It 
was  constantly  being  improved,  until  it  reached  Value  placed 
absolute  perfection,  with  the  old  weapons  and  im-  ^nseoi?mii- 
plements  of  war.  To  its  perfection  the  wrhole  gen-  ltary  art' 
ius  of  the  people  was  consecrated ;  it  was  to  them  what  the 
fine  arts  were  to  the  Greeks,  what  priestly  domination  was  to 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  what  material  inventions  to  abridge 
human  labor  are  to  us.  The  Romans  despised  literature, 
art,  philosophy,  commerce,  agriculture,  and  even  luxury, 
when  they  were  making  their  grand  conquests  ;  they  only 
respected  their  fortunate  generals.  Hence  there  was  no 
great  encouragement  to  genius  or  ambition  in  any  other 
field  ;  but  in  this  field,  the  horizon  perpetually  expanded. 
Every  new  conquest  prepared  the  way  for  successive  con 
quests  ;  ambition  here  was  untrammeled,  energy  was  un 
bounded,  visions  of  glory  were  most  dazzling,  warlike 
schemes  were  most  fertile,  until  the  whole  world  lay  bleed 
ing  and  prostrate. 

Military  gefcius,  however,  does  not  present  man  in  the 


22  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

highest  state  of  wisdom  or  beauty.  It  is  very  attractive, 
Lawfulness  ^ut  "  tnere  1S  a  greater  than  the  warrior's  excel- 
ofwar.  lence,"  at  least  to  a  contemplative  or  religious 

eye.  When  men  save  nations,  in  fearful  crises,  by  their 
military  genius,  as  Napoleon  did  France  when  surrounded 
with  hostile  armies,  or  Gustavus  Adolphus  did  Germany 
when  it  was  struggling  for  religions  rights,  then  they  ren 
der  the  greatest  possible  services,  and  receive  no  unmerited 
honors.  The  heart  of  the  world  cherishes  the  fame  of  Mil- 
tiades,  of  Charlemagne,  of  Henry  IV.,  of  Washington  ;  for 
they  were  identified  with  great  causes.  War  is  one  of  the 
\  occasional  necessities  of  our  world.  No  nation  can  live,  or 
is  worthy  to  live,  without  military  virtues.  They  rescue 
nations  on  the  verge  of  ruin,  and  establish  great  rights, 
without  which  life  is  nothing.  War,  however  much  to  be 
lamented  as  an  evil,  is  the  last  appeal  and  resource  of  na 
tions,  and  settles  what  cannot  be  settled  without  it ;  and 
it  will  probably  continue  so  long  as  there  are  blindness, 
ambition,  and  avarice  among  men.  Nor,  under  certain  cir 
cumstances,  of  which  nations  can  only  be  the  proper  judges, 
is  it  inconsistent  with  the  law  of  love.  Hence,  as  it  is  a 
great  necessity,  it  will  ever  be  valued  as  a  great  science. 
Civilization  accepts  it  and  claims  it.  It  calls  into  exercise 
great  qualities,  and  these  intoxicate  the  people,  who  bow 
down  to  them  as  godlike. 

Still,  military  genius,  however  lauded  and  honored,  is 
Those  who  too  often  allied  with  ambition  and  selfishness  to 
ceL?unnSUC"  secure  the  highest  favor  of  philosophers  or  Chris 
tians.  It  does  not  reveal  the  soul  in  its  loftiest 
aspirations.  Men  of  a  coarser  type  are  often  most  suc 
cessful,  —  men  insensible  to  pity  and  to  reproach,  whose 
greatest  merit  is  in  will,  nerve,  energy,  and  power  of  mak 
ing  rapid  combinations.  We  revere  the  intellect  of  the 
Greeks  more  than  that  of  the  Romans,  though  they  were 
inferior  to  the  latter  in  military  success.  We  have  more 
respect  for  those  qualities  which  add  to  the  domain  of  truth 


CHAP.  I.]    Aggressive  Military  Policy  of  the  Romans.      23 

than  those  which  secure  power.  A  wise  man  elevates  the 
Bacons,  the  Newtons,  and  the  Shakespeares  above  all  the 
Marlboroughs  and  Wellingtons.  Plato  is  surrounded  with  a 
brighter  halo  than  Themistocles,  and  Cicero  than  Marius. 

War  as    a  trade  is  unscrupulous,  hard,   rapacious,  de 
structive.     It   foments   all    the    evil  passions;  it   The  general 
is  allied  with  all  the  vices ;  it  is  antagonistic  to  e 
human  welfare,     It  glories   merely  in   strength  ;    it  wor 
ships  only  success.     It    raises  wicked   men  to    power;  r 
prostrates  and   hides   the   good.     It  extinguishes    what   is 
most  lovely,  and  spurns  what  is  most  exalted.     It  makes  a 
pandemonium  of  earth,  and  drags  to  its  triumphal  car  the 
venerated  relics  of  ages.     It  is  an  awful  crime,  making 
slaves  of  the  helpless,  and  spreading  consternation,  misery, 
and  death  wherever  it  goes  —  marking  its  progress  with  a 
trail  of  blood,  and  filling  the  earth  with  imprecations  and 
curses.     It  is  the  greatest  scourge  which  God  uses  to  chas 
tise  enervated  nations,  and  cannot  be  contemplated  with 
any    satisfaction    except   as   the   wrath  which  is  made  to 
praise  the  Sovereign  Ruler  who  employs  what  means  He 
chooses  to  punish  or  exalt. 

Now  the  Romans,  in  a  general  sense,  pursued  war  as 
a  trade,  to  gratify  a  thirst   for  power,  to  raise   sgritojthe 
themselves  on  the  ruins  of  ancient  monarchies,   their  wars. 
to  enrich  themselves  with  the  spoils  of  the  world,  and  to 
govern  it  for  selfish  purposes.     There  were  many  Roman 
wars  which  were  exceptions,  when  an  exalted  patriotism 
was  the  animating  principle  ;  but  aggressive  war  was  the 
policy  and  shame  of  Rome.     Her  citizens  did  not  generally 
fitrht"  to  preserve  liberties  or  rights  or  national  existence, 
but   for  self-aggrandizement.     Incessant  campaigns  for  a 
thousand  years"  brought  out  military  science,  courage,  en 
ergy,  and  a  grasping  and  selfish  patriotism.     They  gave 
power,  skill   to   rule,  executive  talents;  and    these    qual 
ities,   eminently  adapted   to  worldly  greatness,  made    the 
Romans  universal  masters,  even  if  they  do  not  make  them 


24  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP  I. 

interesting.  They  developed  great  strength,  resource,  will, 
and  even  made  them  wise  in  administration,  possibly  great 
civilizers,  since  centralized  power  is  better  than  anarchies ; 
yet  these  traits  do  not  make  us  love  them,  or  revere  them. 
Providence  doubtless  ordered  the  universal  monarchy, 
which  only  universal  war  could  establish,  for  the  good  of 
the  world  at  that  time,  for  the  advancement  of  civiliza 
tion  itself.  Universal  dominion  must  be  succeeded  by  uni 
versal  peace,  and  in  such  a  peace  the  higher  qualities  and 
virtues  and  talents  can  only  be  manifested,  so  that  the 
Roman  rule  was  not  a  calamity,  but  a  very  desirable  des 
potism.  Yet  despotism  it  was,  —  cold,  remorseless,  self- 
seeking.  War  made  the  Romans  practical,  calculating, 
overbearing,  proud,  scornful,  imperious. 

But  war  made  them  a  great  people,  and  made  them 
Success  of  eminent  in  certain  great  qualities.  Their  suc- 

the  Romans  . 

in  war.  cess  in  war  is  tantamount  to  saying  that  in  one 
great  field  of  genius,  which  civilization  honors,  they  not 
merely  distinguished  themselves,  and  gained  a  proud  fame 
which  will  never  die  out  of  the  memory  of  man,  but  that 
they  have  had  no  equals  in  any  age.  War  enabled  them 
to  build  up  a  vast  empire,  which  empire  gave  a  great  im 
pulse  to  ancient  civilization. 

There  is  something  very  singular  and  mysterious  in  the 
results  of  wars  which  are  caused  and  carried  on  by  unprin 
cipled  and  unscrupulous  men.  They  are  made  to  end  in 
substantial  benefits  to  the  human  race.  The  wrath  of  man, 
in  other  words,  is  made  to  praise  God,  showing  that  He  is 
the  Sovereign  ruler  on  this  earth,  and  uses  what  instru 
ments  He  pleases  to  carry  out  his  great  and  benevolent 
designs.  However  atrocious  the  causes  of  wars,  and  exe 
crable  the  spirit  in  which  they  are  carried  out,  they  are 
ever  made  to  subserve  the  benefit  of  future  ages,  and  the 
great  cause  of  civilization  in  its  vast  connections.  Men 
may  be  guilty,  and  may  be  punished  for  their  wickedness, 
and  execrated  through  all  time  by  enlightened  nations  ;  still 


CHAP,  i.]  Ultimate  Results  of  War.  25 

they  are  but  tools  of  the  higher  power.  I  do  not  say  that 
God  is  the  author  of  wars  any  more  than  He  is  of  sin  ;  but 
wars  are  yet  sent  as  a  punishment  to  those  whom  they 
directly  and  immediately  affect,  while  they  unbind  the 
cords  of  slavery,  and  relax  the  hold  of  tyrants.  They  are 
like  storms  in  the  natural  world :  they  create  a  healthier 
moral  life,  after  the  disasters  are  past.  Those  ambitious 
men,  who  seek  to  add  province  to  province  and  king 
dom  to  kingdom,  and  for  whom  no  maledictions  are  too 
severe,  since  they  shed  innocent  blood,  rarely  succeed  un-j 
less  they  quarrel  with  doomed  nations  incapable  of  renova 
tion.  Thus  Babylon  fell  before  Cyrus  when  her  day  had 
come,  and  she  could  do  no  more  for  civilization.  Thus 
Persia,  in  her  turn,  yielded  to  the  Grecian  heroes  when 
she  became  enervated  with  the  luxuries  of  the  conquered 
kingdoms.  Thus  Greece  again  succumbed  to  Rome  when 
she  had  degenerated  into  a  land  where  every  vice  was 
rampant.  The  passions  which  inflamed  Cyrus,  and  Alex 
ander,  and  Pompey  were  alike  imperious,  and  their  pol 
icy  was  alike  unscrupulous.  They  simply  were  bent  on 
conquest,  and  on  establishing  powerful  empires,  which 
conquests  doubtless  resulted  in  the  improvement  of  the 
condition  of  mankind.  There  is  also  something  hard  and 
forbidding  in  the  policy  of  successful  statesmen.  We  are 
shocked  at  their  injustice,  cruelty,  and  rapaciousness ;  but 

they  are  often  used  by  Providence  to  raise  nations  Providence 

...  11-  i  seen  *n  *^e 

to  preeminence,  when  their  ascendency  is,  on  the  ascendency 

whole,  a  benefit  to  the  world.  There  is  nothing  tions. 
amiable  or  benign  in  the  characters  of  such  men  as  Oxen- 
stiern,  Richelieu,  or  Bismarck,  but  who  can  doubt  the  wis 
dom  of  their  administration  ?  It  is  seldom  that  any  nation 
is  allowed  to  have  a  great  ascendency  over  other  nations 
unless  the  general  influence  of  the  dominant  State  is  favor 
able  to  civilization  ;  and  when  this  influence  is  perverted 
the  ascendency  passes  away.  This  is  remarkably  seen  in 
the  history  of  the  Persian,  the  Greek,  and  the  Roman  Em- 


26  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  i. 

pires,  and  still  more  forcibly  in  the  empire  of  the  popes  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  of  the  vast  influence  of  France  and 
England  during  the  last  hundred  years.  This  is  both  a  mys 
tery  and  a  fact.  It  is  mysterious  that  bad  men  should  be 
allowed  to  succeed  so  often,  but  it  is  one  of  the  sternest 
facts  of  life,  only  to  be  explained  on  the  principle  that  they 
are  instruments  in  the  hands  of  the  Great  Moral  Governor 
whose  designs  we  are  not  able  to  fathom,  yet  the  wisdom 
of  which  is  subsequently,  though  imperfectly,  made  known. 
It  was  wicked  in  the  sons  of  Jacob  to  sell  Joseph  to  the 
Ishmaelites  ;  their  craft  and  lies  were  successful  :  they  de 
ceived  their  father  and  accomplished  their  purposes  ;  yet 
his  bondage  was  the  means  of  their  preservation  from  the 
evils  of  famine.  The  rise  and  fall  of  empires  are  to  be  ex 
plained  on  the  same  principles  as  the  rise  and  fall  of  fam 
ilies.  A  coarse,  unscrupulous  but  enterprising  man  gets 
rich,  but  his  wealth  is  made  to  subserve  interests  far 
greater  than  that  of  his  children.  Hospitals,  colleges,  and 
libraries  are  endowed  as  monasteries  were  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  If  vice,  selfishness,  and  pride  were  not  overruled, 
what  would  become  of  our  world  ?  The  whole  history  of 
civilization  is  the  good  which  is  made  to  spring  out  of  evil. 
Men  are  nothing  in  comparison  with  Omnipotence.  What 
are  human  plans  ?  Yet  enterprise  and  virtue  and  talent 
are  rewarded.  In  the  affairs  of  life  we  see  that  goodness 
does  not  lose  its  recompense,  and  that  vice  is  punished  ; 
but  beyond,  what  more  impressively  do  we  behold  than 
this,  that  the  instruments  of  punishment  are  often  the 
wicked  themselves. 

Among  the  worst  wars  in  history  —  uncalled  for,  unscru- 
The  results     pulous,   fanatical  —  were    the  Crusades.      And 

of  the  Cru- 

when  were  wars  more  unfortunate,  more  unsuc 


cessful?  Five  millions  of  Crusaders  perished  miserably  in 
those  mad  expeditions  stimulated  by  hatred  of  Mohammed 
anism.  No  trophies  consoled  Europe  for  its  enormous 
losses,  extended  over  two  hundred  years.  But  those  wars 


CHAP.  I.] 


Result  of  the  Crusades.  27 

developed  the  resources  of  Europe  ;  they  broke  the  power 
of  feudal  barons;  they  promoted  commerce  and  the  arts  of 
life  •  they  led  to  greater  liberality  of  mind  ;  they  opened  th 
horizon  of  knowledge  ;  they  introduced  learned  men  into 
risii^   universities  ;  they  centralized  the  power  of  kings  ; 
they"  weakened   the   temporal  jurisdiction  of  the  popes  ; 
they  improved  architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting ;  they 
built  free  cities ;  they  gave  a  new  stimulus  to  all  the  ener 
gies  of  the  European  nations.     Their  benefits  to  civiliza 
tion  were  not  the  legitimate  result  of  destructive  passions. 
The  natural  penalty  of  folly  and  crime  was  paid  Th«~ 
in    hardship,    sorrow,   disease,    captivity,    d1Sap-  ,««*«». 
pointment,  poverty,  and  death.     But  out  of  the   ** ^ 
ashes  a  new  creation  arose,  not  what  any  of  the 
leaders  of  those  movements  ever  contemplated  — infinitely 
removed  from  the  thoughts  of  Bernard,  Urban,  Philip,  and 
Richard,  great  men  as  they  were,  far-sighted  statesmen, 
who  expected  other  results.     The  hand  which  guided  that 
warfare  between  Europe  and  Asia  was  the  hand  that  led 
the  Israelites  out  of  Egypt  across  the  Red  Sea     Moreover, 
quern    tens  vult  perdere  prius  dementat.      What  uprising 
more  foolish,  insane,  disastrous,  than  the  great  Southern 
rebellion  !     Its  result  was  never  dreamed  of  for  a  moment 
by  those  Southern  leaders.     They  hoped  to  see  the  estab 
lishment  of  a  great  empire  based  on  slavery  ;   they  saw 
the   utter   destruction  of  slavery  itself.      The   course   by 
which  they  anticipated  dominion  and  riches  ended  in  tl 
temporal  ruin.    They  were  made  the  destroyers  of  their  own 
pet   system,  when  it  could  not  have  been  destroyed  ,n  any 
other  wav.     It  was  only  by  a  great  war  that  the  fetters  of 
the  slave'could  be  removed,  and  God  sent  war  so  soon  as 
it  pleased  Him  to  bring  the  wicked  bondage  to  an  end. 
anv  thing  shows  the  hand  of  God  it  is  the  wars  of  the  na- 
tio"ns.     They  are  sent  like  the  famine  and  the  pestilence. 
All  human  wisdom  and  power  sink  into  insignificance  when 
they  are  put  forth  to  stop  these  scourges  of  the  Almighty. 


28  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

It  is  against  all  reason  that  they  ever  come  ;  yet  they  do 
come,  and  then  crimes  are  avenged  ;  evil  punishes  evil,  and 
succeeding  generations  are  made  to  see  that  the  progress  of 
the  race  is  through  sorrow  and  suffering.  No  great  em 
pire  is  built  up  but  with  the  will  of  God.  No  empire  falls 
without  deserving  the  chastisement  and  the  ruin.  But 
God  has  promised  to  save  and  to  redeem,  and  the  world 
moves  on  in  accordance  with  natural  laws,  and  each  suc 
cessive  century  witnesses  somehow  or  other  a  great  ad 
vance  in  the  general  condition  of  mankind.  It  is  not  the 
great  rulers  who  plan  this  improvement.  It  comes  from 
Heaven.  It  comes  in  spite  of  human  degeneracy,  which, 
if  left  to  itself,  would  doubtless  soon  produce  a  state  of  so 
ciety  like  that  which  is  attributed  to  the  nations  "  before 
the  flood  came  and  destroyed  them  all." 

With  this  view  of  war  —  always  aggressive  with  one 
wars  over.  Party>  always  a  calamity  to  both  ;  the  greatest 
goodVr Im-116  calamity  known  to  the  nations,  exhausting,  bloody, 
cruel,  sweeping  every  thing  before  it ;  a  moral 
conflagration,  bringing  every  kind  of  suffering  and  sorrow  in 
its  train,  yet  made  to  result  as  a  retribution  to  worn-out  and 
degenerate  races,  and  a  means  of  vast  development  of  re 
sources  among  those  peoples  which  have  life  and  energy,  — 
\ve  see  the  providence  of  God  in  the  Roman  Conquests. 
The  gradual  growth  of  Rome  as  a  warlike  state  is  a  most 
impressive  example  of  the  agency  of  a  great  Moral  Gov 
ernor  in  breaking  up  states  that  deserved  to  perish,  and  in 
building  up  a  power  such  as  the  world  needed  in  order  to 
facilitate  both  a  magnificent  civilization  and  the  peaceful 
spread  of  a  new  religion.  The  Greeks  created  art  and  lit 
erature  :  the  Romans,  laws  and  government,  by  which  so 
ciety  everywhere  was  made  more  secure  and  tranquil,  until 
the  good  which  arose  from  the  evil  was  itself  perverted. 

Under  the  kingly  rule  Rome  becomes  the  most  impor- 
Growth  of  tant  and  powerful  of  the  cities  of  Latium,  and  a 

Rome  under  . 

the  kings.       foundation  is  laid  of  social,  religious,  and  political 


CHAP.  I.]         Heroic  Period  of  Roman  History.  29 

institutions  which  are  destined  to  achieve  a  magnificent 
triumph.  The  kings  of  Rome  are  all  great  men  —  wise 
and  statesmanlike,  patrons  of  civilization  among  a  rude  and 
primitive  people.  No  state  for  more  than  two  hundred  years 
was  ever  ruled  by  more  enlightened  princes,  ambitious  in 
deed,  sometimes  unscrupulous,  but  fortunate  and  successful. 
The  benefits  derived  from  the  conquests  and  ascendency 
of  the  city  of  Romulus  were  seen  in  the  union  of  several 
petty  states,  and  the  fusion  of  their  customs  and  manners. 
Before  the  foundation  of  the  city,  Italy  was  of  no  account 
with  the  older  empires.  In  less  than  two  hundred  and 
fifty  years  a  great  Italian  power  grows  up  on  the  banks  of 
the  Tiber,  imbued  to  some  extent  with  the  civilization  of 
Greece,  which  it  receives  through  Etruria  and  the  Tarquins. 

But  the  growth  of  Rome  under  the  kings  was  too 
rapid  for  its  moral  health.  A  series  of  disasters  Effectofthe 
produced  by  the  expulsion  of  the  Tarquins,  dur-  JJJ  Tal°n  °f 
ing  which  the  Roman  state  dwindles  into  a  small  quin8' 
territory  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Tiber,  develops  strength 
and  martial  virtue.  It  takes  Rome  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  to  recover  what  it  had  lost.  Moreover  its  great 
prosperity  has  provoked  envy,  and  all  the  small  neighbor 
ing  nations  are  leagued  against  it.  These  must  be  sub 
dued,  or  Italy  will  remain  divided  and  subdivided,  with  no 
central  power. 

The  heroic  period  of  Roman  history  begins  really  with 
the  expulsion  of  the  kings ;  also  the  growth  of  aristocrat- 
ical  power.  It  is  not  under  kings  nor  democratic  influ 
ences  and  institutions  that  Rome  reaches  preeminence, 
but  under  an  aristocracy.  All  that  is  most  glorious  in 
Roman  annals  took  place  under  the  rule  of  the  Patricians. 

During   the  one    hundred   and   fifty  years  —  when   the 
future  mistress  of  the  world  struggled  for  its  ex-  Romestrug. 
istence  with  the  cities  and  inhabitants  of  Latium,  ftencTfor" 
Samnium,  and  Etruria,  whose  united  territories  15°years- 
scarcely  extended  fifty  miles  from  Rome,  were  developed 


30  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

the  virtues  of  a  martial  aristocracy.  Our  minds  kindle 
with  the  contemplation  of  their  courage,  fortitude,  patience, 
hope,  perseverance,  energy,  self-devotion,  patriotism,  and 
religious  faith.  They  deserved  success.  The  long  and 
bitter  struggle  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  had  more 
of  the  nature  of  self-preservation  than  military  ambition. 
The  history  of  those  petty  wars  is  interesting,  because  it  is 
romantic.  Beautiful  legends  of  early  patriotism  and  he- 
Beautiful  roisin  have  been  reproduced  in  all  the  histories 
th?hSo°c  fr°m  Livy  to  our  times,  like  those  of  the  knights 
period.  Of  ],jng  Arthur  and  the  paladins  of  Charlemagne 
in  the  popular  literature  of  Europe.  Poets  have  made 
them  the  themes  of  their  inspiration.  Painters  have 
chosen  them  as  favorite  subjects  of  art.  We  love  to  pon 
der  on  the  bitter  exile  of  Coriolanus,  his  treasonable  re 
venge,  and  the  noble  patriotism  of  his  weeping  and  in 
dignant  mother,  who  saved  her  country  but  lost  her  son ; 
on  Cincinnatus,  taken  from  the  plow  and  sent  as  general 
and  dictator  against  the  Acquians ;  on  the  Fabian  gens, 
defending  Rome  a  whole  year  from  the  attacks  of  the  Vei- 
entines  until  they  were  all  cut  off,  like  the  Spartan  band 
at  Thermopylae  ;  on  Siccius  Dentatus,  the  veteran  captain 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty  battles,  who  was  only  slain  by 
rolling  a  stone  from  a  high  rock  upon  his  head  ;  on  Cossos, 
slaying  the  king  of  Veii  with  his  own  hand  ;  on  the  siege 
of  Veii,  itself,  a  city  as  large  as  Rome,  lasting  ten  years, 
and  only  finally  taken  by  draining  the  Alban  lake  ;  on  the 
pride  and  avarice  of  the  banished  Camillus,  and  his  subse 
quent  rescue  of  Rome  from  the  Gauls  ;  on  the  sacred  geese 
of  the  capitol,  and  Manlius  who  slew  its  assailants  ;  on  the 
siege  of  the  capitol  for  seven  months  by  these  Celtic  in 
vaders,  and  the  burning  and  sack  of  the  city,  and  its  deliv- 
indi-  erauce  by  the  great  Camillus.  These  legends  are 
not  legitimate  history,  but  they  show  the  self-devo- 
jatvirtues.  tjon  an(j  bra  very,  the  simplicity  and  virtue  of  those 
primitive  ages,  when  luxury  was  unknown  and  crime  was 


CHAP.  I.]         Heroic  Period  of  Roman  History. 

severely  punished.     It  was  in  those  days  of  danger  and 
hardship  that  the  foundation  of  the  future  military  strength 
of  the  empire  was  laid.     We  do  not  read  of  military  sci 
ence,  of  war  as  an  art  or  trade,  or  even  of  great  military 
ambition,  for  the  sphere  of  military  operations  was  narrow 
and  obscure,  but  of  preparation  for  victories,  under  men 
of  genius,  in  the  time  to  come.     That  part  of  Roman  his 
tory  bears  the  same  reLtion  to  the  age  of  Marins  and  Sulla, 
that  the  conquests  of  the  Puritans  over  the  Indians,  and 
the  difficulties  with  which  they  contended,  do  to  the  gigan 
tic  warfare  of  the  North  and  South  in  the  late  rebellion. 
The   Puritans  kid  the  foundation  of  the  military  virtues 
of  the    Americans,   in  their   colonial  state,  as  the  Patn- 
cians  of  Rome  did  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  after 
the  expulsion  of  the  kings.     Those  petty  wars  with  Vol- 
nciaiis  and  Acquians  brought  out  the  Roman  char-  Petty,.™ 
acter,  and  are  the  germ  of  subsequent  greatness.  £™~ 
Thev  took  place  in  the  infancy  of  the  repubhc,  .riotisn, 
under  the  rule   of  Patricians,  who  were  not   then  great 
nobles,  but  brave  and  poor  citizens,  animated  with  patriotic 
zeal  and  characterized,  like  the  Puritans,  for  stern  and  lofty 
virtues  and  religious  faith,  -  superstitious  and  unenlight 
ened,  yet  elevated    and   grand,  -  qualities  on    winch   the 
siren-til  of  man  is  based.     It  is  not  puerile  to  dwell  with 
delight  on  the  legends  of  that  heroic  age,  for  the  philoso 
pher  sees  in  those  little   struggles  the  germs  of  imperial 
power.     They  were  small  and  insignificant,  like  the  battles 
of  the  American    Revolution,   when    measured  with  the 
marshaling  of  vast   armies  on  the  plains   of   Pharsaha  or 
Waterloo,  but  they  were  great  in  their  inherent  heroism 
and  in  their  future  results.    Who  shall  say  which  is  greater 
to  the  eye  of  the  Infinite  — the  battle  of  Leipsic,  or  the 
fi^ht  on  Bunker  Hill?     It  is  the  cause,  the  principles  in 
volved,  the  spirit  of  a  contest,  which  give  dignity  and  im 
portance  to  the  battle-field.     Hence  all  nations  and  ages 
have   felt   great  interest   in   the   early  struggles  of  Rome. 
They  are   full   of  poetry   and   philosophical    importance. 


82  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

The  Roman  historians  themselves  dwelt  upon  them  with 
peculiar  enthusiasm  ;  and  the  record  of  them  lives  in  the 
school-books  of  all  generations,  and  has  not  been  deemed 
unworthy  of  the  critical  genius  of  Niebuhr,  of  Arnold,  or 
of  Mommsen. 

The  result  of  this  protracted  warfare  with  petty  cities 
The  com-  anc*  states  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  was  the 
Jemie'nwof  complete  independence  of  the  City  of  the  Seven 
Hills,  the  regaining  of  the  conquests  lost  by  the 
expulsion  of  Tarquin,  the  conquest  of  Latium,  the  dissolu 
tion  of  the  Latin  League,  the  possession  of  the  Pontine  dis 
trict,  and  the  extension  of  Roman  power  to  the  valleys  of 
the  Apennines.  The  war  with  the  Gauls  was  not  a  sys- 
The  Gaulish  tematic  contest.  It  was  a  raid  of  these  Celts 
invasion.  across  the  Apennines,  and  the  temporary  humili 
ation  of  the  Roman  capital.  The  Gauls  burned  and  sacked 
the  city,  but  soon  retreated,  and  Rome  was  never  again  in 
vaded  by  a  foreign  foe  until  the  hordes  of  Alaric  appeared. 
The  disaster  was  soon  recovered,  and  the  Romans  made 
more  united  by  the  lesson. 

With  the  retreat  of  the  Gauls,  B.  c.  350,  and  the  re 
covery  of  Latium,  B.  c.  341  and  four  hundred  and  sixteen 
years  from  the  foundation  of  the  city,  the  aggressive  pe 
riod  of  Roman  warfare  begins.  By  this  time  the  Plebeians 
made  their  power  felt,  and  had  obtained  one  of  the  two 
consulships  ;  but  for  a  long  time  after,  the  Patricians, 
though  shorn  of  undivided  sovereignty,  still  monopolized 
most  of  the  great  offices  of  state  —  indeed  were  the  con 
trolling  power,  socially  and  politically.  At  no  period 
was  Rome  a  democratic  state  ;  never  had  Plebeians  the 
ascendency.  But  now  the  plebeian  influence  begins  to 
modify  the  old  constitution.  All  classes,  after  incessant 
warfare  for  a  century  and  a  half,  and  exposed  to  innumer 
able  feuds,  united  in  enterprises  of  conquest.  Rome  begins 
to  appear  on  the  stage  of  political  history. 

The  aggressive  nature  of  Roman  warfare  commenced 
with  Samnium.  The  Samnites  were  a  warlike  and  pas- 


CHAP.  I.]         Beginning  of  the  Aggressive  Policy.  33 

toral  people  who  inhabited  the  rugged  mountain  district  be 
tween  the  valleys  of  the  Vulturnus  and  the  Calor,  War with the 
but  they  were  nevertheless  barbarians,  and  the  s 
contest  between  them  and  the  Romans  was  for  the  sover 
eignty  of  Italy.  I  need  not  mention  the  alleged  causes, 
or  the  details  of  a  sanguinary  war.  The  alleged  -causes 
were  not  the  true  ones,  and  the  details  are  complicated  and 
obscure.  We  deal  with  results.  The  war  began  B.  c.  326, 
and  lasted,  with  short  intervals  of  peace,  thirty-six  years. 
The  Roman  heroes  were  M.  Valerius  Corvus,  L.  Papirius 
Cursor,  Q.  Fabius  Maximus,  and  P.  Decius  the  younger.  All 
of  these  were  great  generals,  and  were  consuls  or  dictators. 
As  in  all  great  contests,  lasting  a  whole  generation,  there 
was  alternate  victory  and  defeat,  disgraced  by  treachery 
and  bad  faith.  The  Romans  fought,  assisted  by  Latins, 
Campanians,  and  Apulians.  The  Samnites  defended  them 
selves  in  their  mountain  fastnesses  with  inflexible  obsti 
nacy,  and  obtained  no  assistance  from  allies  until  nearly 
worn  out,  when  Umbrians,  Etrurians,  and  Senonian  Gauls 
came  to  the  rescue.  About  sixty  thousand  men  fought  on 
each  side.  The  battle  of  Sentinum  determined 
the  fate  of  Samnium  and  Italy,  gained  by  Fa-  num. 
bius  and  Decius,  and  the  Samnites  laid  down  their  arms 
and  yielded  to  their  rivals.  Their  brave  general,  Pontius, 
was  beheaded  in  the  prison  under  the  capitol,  —  an  act  of  in 
humanity  which  sullied  the  laurels  of  Fabius.  The  Roman 
power  is  now  established  over  central  and  lower  Italy,  and 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  Greek  cities  on  the  coast,  La- 
tium,  Campania,  Apulia,  and  Samnium  are  added  to  the 
territories  of  the  republic. 

In  the  mean  time  the  political  inequality  between  Patri 
cians  and  Plebeians  had  been  removed,  and  a  plebeian 
nobility  had  grown  up,  created  by  success  in  war  and 
domestic  factions.  The  great  man  in  civil  his-  works  of 

.         ..  .         AppiusClau- 

tory,  during  this  war,  was  Appms  Claudius  the  dius. 
Censor,    a    proud    and    inflexible    Patrician.      His   great 

3 


34  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

works  were  the  Appian  road  and  aqueduct.  The  road 
led  to  Capua  through  the  Pontine  marshes  one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles,  and  was  paved  with  blocks  of  basalt ; 
the  aqueduct  passed  under  ground,  and  was  the  first  of 
those  vast  works  which  supplied  the  city  with  water. 

About  ten  years  elapsed  between  the  conquest  of  the 
Samnites  and  the  landing  of  Pyrrhus  in  Italy,  B.  c.  280, 
during  which  the  Romans  were  brought  in  contact  with 
Magna  Grecia  and  Syracuse. 

The  chief  of  the  Greek-Italian  cities  was  Tarentum,  a 
very  ancient  Lacedaemonian  colony.  It  was  admirably 
situated  for  commerce  on  the  gulf  which  bears  its  name, 
was  very  rich,  and  abounded  in  fearless  sailors.  But  like 
most  commercial  cities,  it  intrusted  its  defense  to  merce 
naries.  It  viewed  with  alarm  the  growing  power  of  Rome, 
and  unable  to  meet  her  face  to  face,  called  in  the  aid  of 
Pyrrhus,  king  of  Epirus,  the  greatest  general  of 
tne  a»e>  which  was  followed  by  a  general  rising 
of  the  Italian  states,  to  shake  off  the  Roman  yoke. 

Pyrrhus  was  a  soldier  of  fortune,  and  practiced  war  as 
an  art,  and  delighted  in  it  like  Alexander  or  Charles  XII. 
He  readily  responded  to  the  overture  of  the  Tarentine 
Ambassador,  and  sent  over  a  general  with  three  thousand 
men  to  secure  a  footing,  and  soon  followed  with  twenty 
Expedition  thousand  foot,  five  thousand  horse,  and  a  number 

of  Pyrrhus 

into  itaiy.  of  elephants.  Among  his  troops  were  five  thou 
sand  Macedonian  soldiers,  a  phalanx  such  as  the  Romans 
had  never  encountered.  The  Macedonians  fought  in 
masses  ;  the  Romans  in  lines.  The  first  encounter  was 
disastrous  to  the  Romans,  whose  cavalry  was  frightened 
by  the  elephants.  But  Pyrrhus,  contented  with  victory, 
did  not  pursue  his  advantages,  and  advanced  with  easy 
marches  towards  Rome  with  seventy  thousand  men.  The 
battle  of  Heraclea,  however,  had  greatly  weakened  his 
forces ;  his  allies  proved  treacherous ;  and  he  was  glad  to 
offer  terms  of  peace,  which  were  promptly  rejected  by  the 


CHAP.  I.]  Fall  of  Tarentum.  35 

Senate.  After  spending  nearly  three  years  in  Italy  he 
retired  to  Syracuse,  but  again  tried  his  fortune  against  the 
Romans,  and  was  signally  routed  at  the  battle  of  He  isdefeat- 
Beneventum  by  Curius  Dentatus.  He  hastily  tieUfiene^ 
left  Italy  to  her  fate,  and  the  fall  of  Tarentum  ventum' 
speedily  followed,  which  made  the  Romans  masters  of  the 
whole  peninsula.  The  Macedonian  phalanx,  which  had 
conquered  Asia,  yielded  to  the  Roman  legion,  and  a  new 
lesson  was  learned  in  the  art  of  war. 

The  Romans,  by  the  fall  of  Tarentum,  were  now  the 
undisputed  masters  of  Italy,  and  had  made  the  Results  of 

.      '  .      *  „    ,  ,  ,       the  fall  of 

first  great  step  towards  the  conquest  of  the  world.  Tarentum. 
The  city  of  Romulus  was  now  four  hundred  and  eighty 
years  old,  and  the  national  domain  extended  from  the 
Cirninian  wood  in  Etruria  to  the  middle  of  the  Campania. 
It  was  called  the  Ager  Romanus,  in  which  was  a  population 
of  two  hundred  and  ninety-three  thousand  men  capable  of 
bearing  arms  ;  and  the  citizens  of  the  various  conquered 
cities,  who  had  served  certain  magistracies  in  them,  were 
enrolled  among  Roman  citizens,  with  all  the  rights  to  which 
the  citizens  of  the  capital  were  entitled,  —  absolute  author 
ity  over  wife,  children,  and  slaves,  security  from  capital 
punishment  except  by  a  vote  of  the  people,  or  under  mili 
tary  authority  in  the  camp,  access  to  all  the  honors  and 
employments  of  the  state,  the  right  of  suffrage,  and  the 
possession  of  Quirinal  property.  They  felt  them-  The  Romans 
selves  to  be  allies  of  Rome,  and  henceforward  lent  ^£toof 
efficient  aid  in  war.  To  all  practical  intents,  they  Italy> 
were  Romans  as  completely  as  the  inhabitants  of  Mar 
seilles  are  French.  Tarentum,  Neapolis,  Tibur,  Prseneste, 
and  other  large  cities,  enjoyed  peculiar  privileges ;  but 
armed  garrisons  were  maintained  in  them,  under  the  form 
of  colonies.  The  administration  of  them  was  organized 
after  the  model  of  Rome.  Military  roads  were  constructed 
between  all  places  of  importance. 

The  same  sterling  virtues  which  characterized  the  abso- 


36  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

lute  rule  of  the  Patricians  still  continued,  and  patriotism 
partook  of  the  nature  of  religious  sentiment.  Three  Decii 
surrendered  their  lives  for  the  Roman  army,  and  Manlius 
The  virtues  immolated  his  son  to  the  genius  of  discipline ; 
Patricians.  Ru  fin  us  is  degraded  from  the  Senate  for  pos 
sessing  ten  pounds  of  silver  plate,  although  twice  consul 
and  once  dictator  ;  Regains,  twice  consul,  possessed  no 
more  than  one  little  field  in  the  barren  district  of  Papinice. 
Curius  like  Fabricius  prepared  his  simple  meal  with  his 
own  hand,  and  refused  the  gold  of  the  Sarnnites,  as  Fabri 
cius  refused  that  of  Pyrrhus.  The  new  masters  of  Italy 
deserved  their  empire.  There  was  union  because  there 
was  now  political  equality.  The  u  new  men,  like  Fabri 
cius  and  Curius  Dentatus,  were  not  less  numerous  in  the 
Senate  than  the  old  Curial  families.  The  aristocracy  of 
blood  was  blended  with  the  aristocracy  of  merit.  The 
consulship  gave  unity  of  command,  the  Senate  wisdom 
and  the  proper  strength,  preserving  a  happy  equilibrium 
of  forces,  —  the  combination  of  royalty,  aristocracy,  and 
democracy,  which,  with  military  virtues  and  austere  man 
ners,  made  an  irresistible  force."  l  This  period,  the  fifth 
century  of  the  existence  of  the  Roman  state,  was  its 
heroic  age. 

But  now  military  aggrandizement  became  the  master- 
Rome  Pre-  passion  of  the  people,  and  the  uniform  policy  of  the 
gS!erand"  government.  Military  virtues  still  remained,  but 
the  morals  of  state  began  to  decline.  Aggressive 
wars,  for  conquest  and  power,  henceforth,  mark  the  prog 
ress  of  the  Romans  ;  and  not  merely  aggressive  wars,  but 
unjust  and  foreign  wars.  The  step  of  the  Roman  is  now 
proud  and  defiant.  Visions  of  unlimited  conquest  rise  up 
before  his  eye.  He  is  cold,  practical,  imperious.  The 
eagles  of  the  legions  are  the  real  objects  of  pride  and  rev 
erence.  Mars  is  the  presiding  deity.  Success  is  the  only 
road  to  honor. 

1  Durny,  Hist,  des  Remains. 


CHAP.  I.]  Wars  with  Carthage.  37 

While  Rome  was    completing  the    reduction    of   Italy, 
Carthage,  a  Tyrian  colony  on  the  opposite  coast  Rlvalry  be_ 
of  Africa,  was  extending   her  conquests  in  the   S^anT 
Islands  of  the  Mediterranean.     The  Greek  col-  * 
onies  of  Sicily  had  fallen  under  her    sway.     She   was   a 
rival  whose  power  was  formidable,  enriched  by  the  com 
merce  of  the  world,  and  proud  in  the  number  of  her  allies. 
The  city  contained    seven  hundred  thousand  inhabitants, 
and  the  walls  measured  twenty  miles  in  circumference. 

Between  such  ambitious  and  unscrupulous  rivals,  peace 
could  not  long  be  maintained.  To  the  eye  of  the  philoso 
pher  the  ascendency  of  Carthage  or  of  Rome  over  the  coun 
tries  which  border  on  the  Mediterranean  was  clearly  seen. 
Which  were  better  ?  Shall  the  world  be  governed  by  a 
martial,  law-making,  law-loving,  heroic  common-  Shall  Rome 
wealth,  not  yet  seduced  and  corrupted  by  luxury  JaveThlTpre- 
and  wealth,  or  by  a  commercial,  luxurious,  selfish  e 
nation  of  merchants,  whose  only  desire  is  self-indulgence 
and  folly.  Providence  sides  with  Rome — although  Rome 
cannot  be  commended,  and  is  ruled  by  ambitious  and  un 
scrupulous  chieftains  whose  delight  is  power.  If  there  is 
to  be  one  great  empire  more,  before  Christianity  is  pro 
claimed,  which  shall  absorb  all  other  empires,  now  degen 
erate  and  corrupt,  let  that  be  given  to  a  people  who  know 
how  to  civilize  after  they  have  conquered.  Let  the  sword 
rather  than  gold  rule  the  world  —  enlightened  statesmen 
rather  than  self-indulgent  merchants.  So  Carthage  falls, 
after  three  memorable  struggles,  extending  over 
more  than  a  century,  during  which  she  produced 
the  greatest  general  of  antiquity,  next  to  Caesar  struggle. 
and  Alexander.  But  not  even  Hannibal  could  restore 
the  fortunes  of  his  country,  after  having  inflicted  a  bitter 
humiliation  on  his  enemies.  That  city  of  merchants,  like 
Tyre  and  Sidon,  must  drink  of  the  cup  of  divine  chastise 
ment.  Another  type  of  civilization  than  that  furnished  by 
a  "  mistress  of  the  sea,"  was  needed  for  Europe,  and  an- 


38  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  i. 

other  rule  for  Asia  and  Africa.  The  Carthaginians  taught 
the  Romans,  in  their  contest,  how  to  build  ships  of  war 
and  fight  naval  battles.  As  many  as  three  hundred  thou 
sand  men  were  engaged  in  that  memorable  sea-h'ght  of 
Ecnomus  which  opened  to  Regulus  the  way  to  Africa. 
Three  times  did  the  Romans  lose  their  fleets  by  tempests, 
and  yet  they  persevered  in  building  new  ones.  The  forti 
tude  of  the  Romans,  in  view  of  the  brilliant  successes  of 
Hannibal,  can  never  be  sufficiently  admired.  The  defeat 
at  Cannae  was  a  catastrophe,  but  the  troops  of  Fabius,  to 
whom  was  left  the  defense  of  the  city,  were  not  discour 
aged,  and  with  Scipio  —  religious,  self-reliant,  and  lofty  — 
Territories  the  tide  °^'  victory  turned.  By  the  first  Punic 
the'STo?  y  wai%  which  lasted  twenty-two  years,  Rome  gained 
Carthage.  Sicily ;  by  the  second,  which  opened  twenty- 
three  years  after  the  first,  and  lasted  seventeen  years,  she 
gained  Sardinia,  a  foothold  in  Spain  and  Gaul,  and  a  pre 
ponderance  throughout  the  western  regions  of  Europe  and 
Africa  ;  by  the  third,  which  occurred  fifty  years  after  the 
second,  and  continued  but  four  years,  she  gained  all  the 
provinces  of  Africa  ruled  by  Carthage,  and  a  great  part  of 
Spain.  Nothing  was  allowed  to  remain  of  the  African 
capital.  The  departing  troops  left  behind  complete  deso 
lation.  The  captives  were  sold  as  slaves,  or  put  to  death, 
and  enough  of  spoil  rewarded  the  victors  to  adorn  a  tri 
umph  only  surpassed  by  that  of  Paulus  on  his  return  from 
the  conquest  of  Greece. 

In  the  mean  time,  in  the  interval  between  the  second 
and  third  Punic  wars,  occurred  the  Macedonian  wars,  which 
prepared  the  way  for  conquests  in  the  East.  The  great 
Condition  of  Macedonian  empire  was  split  up  into  several 
doniSTm-  monarchies  among  the  generals  of  Alexander  and 
plre'  their  successors.  The  Ptolemies  reigned  in  Egypt; 

the  successors  of  Seleucus  in  Babylonia  ;  those  of  Antigonus 
in  Syria  and  Asia  Minor  ;  those  of  Lysimachus  in  Thrace  ; 
and  of  Cassander  in  Macedonia.  It  was  the  mission  of 


CHAP.  I.]  Conquest  of  Greece  necessary  for   Civilization.    39 

Rome  to  subdue  these  monarchies,  or  rather  her  good  for 
tune,  for  she  was  destined  to  conquer  the  world.  The 
principles  which  animated  these  wars  cannot  be  defended 
on  high  moral  grounds,  any  more  than  the  conquest  of 
India  by  England,  or  of  Algeria  by  France.  They  were 
based  entirely  upon  ambition  —  upon  the  passion  for  polit 
ical  aggrandizement.  I  confess  I  have  no  sympathy  with 
them.  Roman  liberties  were  not  jeopardized,  nor  were  these 
monarchies  dangerous  rivals  like  Carthage.  The  subjuga 
tion  of  Italy  was  in  accordance  with  what  we  now  pmicipies^ 
call  the  Monroe  doctrine  —  to  obtain  the  ascend-  which  led  to 

tne  conquest 

ency  on  her  own  soil;  and  even  the  conquest  of  of  Greece. 
Sicily  was  no  worse  than  the  conquest  of  Ireland,  or  what 
would  be  the  future  absorption  of  Cuba  and  Jamaica  within 
the  limits  of  the  United  States.  The  Emperor  Napoleon 
would  probably  justify  both  the  humiliation  of  Carthage 
and  the  conquest  of  Greece  and  Asia  and  Egypt,  and  others 
would  echo  his  voice  in  defense  of  aggressive  domination, 
on  some  plea  of  pretended  schemes  of  colonization,  and  the 
progress  of  civilization.  But  I  do  not  believe  in  overturn 
ing  the  immutable  laws  of  moral  obligation  for  any  ques 
tionable  policy  of  expediency.  I  look  upon  the  great  civil 
wars  of  the  Romans,  which  followed  these  conquests,  in 
which  so  much  blood  was  shed,  and  in  which  Marius  and 
Sulla  and  Csesar  and  Pompey  exhausted  the  resources  of 
the  state,  and  made  an  imperial  regime  necessary,  only  as 
the  visitation  of  God  in  rebuke  of  such  wicked  ambition. 

The  conquest  over  the  Macedonians,  however,  by  the 
Romans,  was  not  an  unmixed  calamity,  and  was   Greece reaps 
a  righteous  judgment  on  the  Greeks.     Nothing  oJethTun-y 
could  be  more  unscrupulous  than  the  career  of    SSof  Aiex- 
Alexander  and  his  generals.  Again,  the  principle  a 
which  had  animated  the  Oriental  kings  before  him  was  in 
defensible.     We  could  go  back  still  further,  and  show  from 
the  whole  history  of  Asiatic  conquests  that  their  object  was 
to  aggrandize  ambitious  conquerors.     The  Persians,  at  first, 


40  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

were  a  brave  and  religious  people,  hardy  and  severe,  and 
their  conquest  of  older  monarchies  resulted  in  a  certain 
good.  But  they  became  corrupt  by  prosperity  and  power, 
Degeneracy  and  fell  a  prey  to  the  Greeks.  The  Greeks,  at 
Greeks.  that  period,  were  the  noblest  race  of  the  ancient 
world  —  immortal  for  genius  and  art.  But  power  dazzled 
them,  and  little  remained  of  that  glorious  spirit  which 
was  seen  at  Thermopylae  and  Marathon.  The  Greek  as 
cendency  in  Asia  and  Egypt  was  followed  by  the  same 
luxury  and  extravagance  and  effeminacy  that  resulted 
from  the  rule  of  Persia.  The  Greeks  had  done  great 
things,  and  contributed  to  the  march  of  civilization,  but 
they  had  done  their  work,  arid  their  turn  of  humiliation 
must  come.  Their  vast  empire  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Romans,  and  the  change  was  beneficial  to  humanity.  They 
who  had  abused  their  trust  were  punished,  and  those  were 
exalted  above  them  who  were  as  yet  uncorrupted  by 
those  vices  which  are  most  fatal  to  nations.  The  great 
Spoils  of  fruit  of  these  wars  were  the  treasures  of  Greece, 
in"toethea  especially  precious  marbles,  and  other  works  of 

hands  of  the  „,,'  .  -p>      i  -,  /.o  i  •    i 

Romans.  art.  I  he  victory  at  Pydna,  B.  c.  168,  which 
gave  the  final  superiority  to  the  Roman  legion  over  the 
Macedonian  phalanx,  was  followed  by  the  triumph  of 
The  triumph  Paulus  himself — the  grandest  display  ever  seen 
ofpauius.  at  Rome>  First  passed  the  spoils  of  Greece  — 
statues  and  pictures  —  in  two  hundred  and  fifty  wagons; 
then  the  arms  and  accoutrements  of  the  Macedonian  sol 
diers  ;  then  three  thousand  men,  each  carrying  a  vase  of 
silver  coin  ;  then  victims  for  sacrifice,  with  youths  and 
maidens  with  garlands  ;  then  men  bearing  vases  of  gold 
and  precious  stones  ;  then  the  royal  chariot  of  the  con 
quered  king  laden  with  armor  and  trophies  ;  then  his  wife 
and  children,  and  the  fallen  monarch  on  foot ;  then  the  tri 
umphal  car  of  the  victorious  general,  preceded  by  men  bear 
ing  four  hundred  crowns  of  gold  —  the  gift  of  the  Grecian 
cities  —  and  followed  by  his  two  sons  on  horseback,  and 


CHAP.  I.]         Effects  of  the   Conquest  of  Greece.  41 

the  whole  army  in  order.     The  sack  of  Corinth  by  Mum- 
mius  was  the  finale  of  Grecian  humiliation,  soon  followed 
by  the  total  subjection  of  Macedonia,  Greece,  and  Illyria, 
forming  three   provinces.     Nine   provinces   now   Grecian 
composed    the    territories    of    Rome,    while    the   addl^tTthe 
kings    of  Asia   Minor,  Syria,    and    Egypt  were  empire 
vassals  rather  than  allies,  B.  c.  133. 

The  manners  and  habits  of  the  imperial  capital  had  un 
dergone  a  gradual  change  since  the  close  of  the  Changeof 
second  Punic  War.  During  these  fifty  years,  the  ™££Z?* 
sack  of  so  many  Grecian  cities,  the  fall  of  Car-  Rome' 
thage,  and  the  prestige  of  so  many  victories,  had  filled  Rome 
with  pride  and  luxury.  In  vain  did  M.  Portius  Cato,  the 
most  remarkable  man  who  adorned  this  degenerate  age, 
lift  up  his  voice  against  increasing  corruption.  In  vain 
were  his  stringent  measures  as  censor.  In  vain  did  he 
strike  senators  from  the  list,  and  make  an  onslaught  on  the 
abuses  of  his  day.  In  vain  were  his  eloquence,  his  simple 
manners,  his  rustic  garb,  and  his  patriotic  warnings.  That 
hard,  narrow,  self-sufficient,  arbitrary,  worldly-wise  old 
statesman,  whose  many  virtues  redeemed  his  defects,  and 
whose  splendid  abilities  were  the  glory  of  his  countrymen, 
could  not  restore  the  simplicities  of  former  times.  Reforms  of 

.^          .  Cato  the 

An  age  of  "  progress  had  set  in,  of  Grecian  Censor. 
arts  and  culture,  of  material  wealth,  of  sumptuous  ban 
quets,  of  splendid  palaces,  of  rich  temples,  of  theatrical 
shows,  of  circus  games,  of  female  gallantries,  of  effeminated 
manners  —  all  the  usual  accompaniments  of  civilization, 
when  it  is  most  proud  of  its  triumphs  ;  and  there  was  no 
resisting  its  march  —  to  the  eye  of  many  a  great  improve 
ment ;  to  the  eve  of  honest  old  Cato,  the  descen-  Great  degen 

eracy  pro- 

sus  averni.     Wealth  had  become  a  great  power;   ducedbythe 

'         .    /  ,          Grecian 

senatorial   families    grew    immensely    rich  ;    the  wars. 
divisions  of  society  widened  ;  slavery  was  enormously  in 
creased,  while  the  rural  population  lost  independence  and 
influence. 


42  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

Then  took  place  the  memorable  struggles  of  Rome,  not 
merely  with  foreign  enemies,  but  against  herself.  Factions 
and  parties  convulsed  the  city  ;  civil  war  wasted  the  na 
tional  resources. 

It  was  in  that  period  of  civic  strife,  when  factions  and 
parties  struggled  for  ascendency  —  when  the  Gracchi  were 
both  reformers  and  demagogues,  patriots  and  disorganizes, 
heroes  and  martyrs  —  when  fortunate  generals  aimed  at 
wars  with  supreme  power,  and  sought  to  overturn  the  lib- 
andT'eu-"  erties  of  their  country,  that  Rome  was  seriously 
threatened  by  the  barbarians.  Both  Celts  and 
Teutones,  from  Gaul  and  Germany,  formed  a  general  union 
for  the  invasion  of  Italy.  They  had  successively  defeated 
five  consular  armies,  in  which  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  men  were  slain.  They  rolled  on  like  a  devastat 
ing  storm  —  some  three  hundred  thousand  warriors  from 
unconquered  countries  beyond  the  Alps.  They  were  met 
by  Marias  the  hero  of  the  African  war,  who  had  added 
Numidia,  to  the  empire  —  now  old,  fierce,  and  cruel,  a 
Success  of  plebeian  who  had  arisen  by  force  of  military  gen- 
Jonrsba'ckh°  ius —  an(l  tne  Gaulish  hordes  were  annihilated 
nhoertiSn°f  on  the  Rhone  and  the  Po.  The  Romans  at  first 
emigration.  vjewe(j  those  half-naked  warriors  — so  full  of 
strength  and  courage,  so  confident  of  victory,  so  reckless  of 
life,  so  impetuous  and  savage  — with  terror  and  awe.  But 
their  time  had  not  yet  come.  Numbers  were  of  no  avail 
against  science,  when  science  was  itself  directed  by  genius 
and  sustained  by  enthusiasm.  The  result  of  the  decisive 
battles  of  Aquae  Sextiae  and  Vercellae  was  to  roll  back  the 
tide  of  northern  immigration  for  three  hundred  years,  and 
to  prepare  the  way  for  the  conquests  of  Ca3sar  in  Gaul. 

Then  followed  that  great  insurrection  of  the  old  states  of 

Italy  against  their  imperious  mistress  —  their  last  struggle 

for  independence,  called  the  Social  War,  in  which  three 

The  social      hundred  thousand  of  the  young  men  of  Italy  fell, 

and  in  which  Sulla  so  much  distinguished  himself 


CHAP.  I.]  Miihridatic  Wars.  43 

as  to  be  regarded  as  the  rival  of  Marius,  who  had  ruled 
Rome  since  the  slaughter  of  the  Cimbrians  and  Teutones. 
Sulla,  who  had  served  under  Marius  in  Africa,   p,iseof 
dissolute  like  Antony,  but  cultivated  like  Ca3.sar  Sulla' 
—  a  man  full  of  ambition  and  genius,  and  belonging  to 
one  of  the  oldest  and  proudest  patrician  families,  the  Cor 
nelian  gens  —  was  no   mean  rival  of  the  old  tyrant  and 
demagogue,  and  he  was  sent  against  Mithridates,  the  most 
powerful  of  all  the  Oriental  kings. 

This  Asiatic  potentate  had  encouraged  the  insurgents  in 
Italy,  and  was  also  at  war  with  the  Romans.  Marius 
viewed  with  envy  and  hatred  the  preference  shown  to 
Sulla  in  the  conduct  of  the  Mithridatic  War,  and  succeeded, 
by  his  intrigues  and  influence  with  the  people,  in  causing 
Sulla  to  be  superseded,  and  himself  to  be  appointed  in  his 
place. 

Hence  that  dreadful  civil  contest  between  these  two  gen 
erals,  in  which  Rome  was  alternately  at  the  mercy  civil  wara 
of  both,  and  in  which  the  most  horrible  butcher-  Maraud 
ies  took  place  that  had  ever  befallen  the  city  —  a  s 
reign  of  terror,  a  burst  of  savage  passion,  especially  on 
the  part  of  Marius,  who  had  lately  abandoned  himself  to 
wine  and  riotous  living.     He  died   B.  c.  86,  victor  in  the 
contest,  in  his  seventh  consulate,  worn  out  by  labor  and 
dissolute  habits,  nearly  seventy  years  of  age. 

His  opportune  death  relieved  Rome  of  a  tyrannical  rule, 
and  opened  the  way  for  the  splendid  achieve-  Death0f 
ments  of  Sulla  in  the  East.  A  great  warrior  ManuSt 
had  arisen  in  a  quarter  least  expected.  In  the  moun 
tainous  region  along  the  north  side  of  the  Euxine,  the 
kingdom  of  Pontus  had  grown  from  a  principality  to  a 
kingdom,  and  Mithridates,  ruling  over  Cappadocia,  Paph- 
lagonia,  and  Phrygia,  aspired  for  the  sovereignty  of  the 
East.  Pie  was  an  accomplished  and  enlightened  prince, 
and  could  speak  twenty-five  languages,  hardy,  adventur 
ous,  and  bold,  like  an  ancient  Persian.  By  conquests  and 


44  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

alliances  he  had  made  himself  the  most  powerful  sovereign 
in  Asia. 

Availing  himself  of  the  disturbance  growing  out  of  the 
Social  War,  he  fomented  a  rebellion  of  the  prov- 

Mithridates.      .  „      .     .       ,.  ,.  •        i      T»  •   i 

inces  ot  Asia  Minor,  seized  iSitnyma,  and  en 
couraged  Athens  to  shake  off  the  Roman  yoke.  Most 
of  the  Greek  communities  joined  the  Athenian  insurrec 
tion,  and  Asia  rallied  around  the  man  who  hoped  to  cope 
successfully  with  Rome  herself. 

At  this  juncture,  Sulla  was  sent  into  Greece  with  fifty 
Conquests  thousand  men.  Athens  fell  before  his  conquer- 
Greece.  ing  legions,  B.  c.  88,  and  the  lieutenants  of  Mith- 
ridates  retreated  before  the  Romans  with  one  hundred 
thousand  foot  and  ten  thousand  horse,  and  one  hundred 
armed  chariots.  On  the  plains  of  Chseronea,  where  Gre 
cian  liberties  had  been  overthrown  by  Philip  of  Macedon, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years  before,  a  desperate  conflict 
took  place,  and  the  Pontic  army  was  signally  defeated. 
Shortly  after,  Sulla  gained  another  great  victory  over  the 
generals  of  the  King  of  Pontus,  and  compelled  him  to  accept 
peace,  the  terms  of  which  he  himself  dictated,  after  exact 
ing  heavy  contributions  from  the  cities  of  Greece  and  Asia 
Minor. 

The  civil  war  between  Sulla  and  the  chiefs  of  the  pop 
ular  faction  that  had  been  created  by  Marius,  which 
ended  in  his  complete  ascendency  in  Italy,  stopped  for  a 
Death  of  while  the  Roman  conquests  in  the  East.  Sulla, 
having  undone  the  popular  measures  of  the  last 
half  century,  and  reigned  supreme  over  all  factions  as  dicta 
tor,  died  B.  c.  78,  after  a  most  successful  career,  and  left  his 
mantle  to  the  most  enterprising  of  his  lieutenants,  Cnasus 
Pompey,  who  was  destined  to  complete  the  Mithridatic 
war. 

If  Sulla  had  not  been  so  inordinately  fond  of  pleasure 

character  of   an(l    luxurious    self-indulgence,  he  might    have 

seized   the   sceptre   of   universal   dominion,   and 


CHAP.I.]  Pompey  and  Ccesar.  45 

have  made  himself  undisputed  master  of  the  empire.  He 
was  a  man  of  extraordinary  genius,  fond  of  literature,  and 
a  great  diplomatist.  But  he  was  not  preeminently  ambi 
tious  like  Csesar,  and  was  diverted  by  the  fascinations  of 
elegant  leisure  ;  nor  was  he  naturally  cruel,  though  his  pas 
sions,  when  aroused,  were  fierce  and  vindictive.  He  lived 
in  an  age  of  exceeding  corruption,  when  it  was  evident 
to  contemplative  minds  that  Roman  liberties  could  not  be 
much  longer  preserved.  He  had,  for  a  time,  restored  the 
ascendency  of  the  senatorial  families,  but  faction  was  at 
work  among  the  unprincipled  chiefs  of  the  republic. 

On  the  death  of  the  great   dictator,  Mithridates  broke 
the  peace  he  had  concluded,  and  marched  into  Lucuiius 
Bithynia,  which  had  been  left  by  will  to  the  Ro-  g|nif  ^ 
man  people  by  Nicomedes,  with  the  hope  of  its  A 
reconquest.     He  had  an  army  of  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  foot  and  fifteen  thousand  horse.     Lucuiius,  with 
thirty  thousand  foot  and    one    thousand   horse,  advanced 
against  him,  and  the  vast  forces  of   Mithridates  were  de 
flated,  and  the  king  was  driven  into  Armenia,  and  sought 
the  aid  of  Tigranes,  his  son-in-law,  king  of  that  power 
ful  country.    He,  too,  was  subdued  by  the  Roman  legions, 
and  all  the  nations  from  the  Halys  to  the  Euphrates  ac 
knowledged  the  dominion  of  Rome. 

Still,  Mithridates  was  not  subdued,  and  Pompey,  who 
had  annihilated  the  Mediterranean  pirates,  was  B^jf»~*- 
deemed  the  only  person  fit  to  finish  the  Mithri-  Pompey. 
datic  war.  His  successes  had  been  more  brilliant  than  even 
those  of  Sulla,  or  Lucuiius,  or  Metellus.  He  was  made  Dic 
tator  of  the  East,  with  greater  powers  than  had  ever  before 
been  intrusted  to  a  Roman  general.  He  had  success  equal 
to  his  fame  ;  drove  Mithridates  across  the  Caucasus  ;  re 
duced  Pontus,  and  took  possession  of  Syria,  which  had 
been  subject  to  Tigranes.  The  defeated  King  of  Pontus, 
who  had  sought  to  unite  all  the  barbarous  tribes  of  Eastern 
Europe  against  Rome,  destroyed  himself.  Pompey,  after 


46  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I 

seven  years'  continued  successes,  returned  to  Italy  to  claim 
his  triumph,  having  subdued  the  East,  and  added  the  old 
monarchy  of  the  Seleucidae  to  the  dominion  of  Rome, 
B.  c.  61. 

But  while  Pompey  was  pursuing  his  victories  over  the 
The  early  ca-  effeminate  people  of  Asia,  a  still  more  brilliant 

reer  of  Julius  *        l  .    . 

c»esar.  career  in  the  West  marked  the  rising  fortunes  of 
Julius  Caesar.  I  need  not  dwell  on  the  steps  by  which  he 
arose  to  become  the  formidable  rival  of  the  conqueror  of 
the  East.  He  bears  the  most  august  name  of  antiquity. 
A  patrician  by  birth,  a  demagogue  in  his  principles,  popular 
in  his  manners,  unscrupulous  in  his  means,  he  successively 
passed  through  the  various  great  offices  of  state,  which  he 
discharged  with  prodigious  talent.  As  leader  of  the  old 
popular  party  of  Marius,  he  sought  the  humiliation  of  the 
Senate,  while  his  ambition  led  him  to  favor  every  enter 
prise  which  promised  to  advance  his  own  interests.  Leav 
ing  the  province  of  Spain,  after  his  praetorship,  before 
Pompey's  return  to  Italy,  his  great  career  of  conquest 
commenced.  He  first  availed  himself  of  some  disturbances 
in  Lusitania  to  declare  war  against  its  gallant  people,  over 
ran  their  country,  and  then  turned  his  arms  against  the 
His  vie-  Gallicians.  In  two  years  he  had  obtained  spoils 
sp2n.m  more  than  sufficient  to  pay  his  enormous  debts, 
the  result  of  his  prodigality,  by  which,  however,  he  won 
the  hearts  of  the  thoughtless  citizens,  and  paved  the  way 
for  honor.  Conqueror  of  Spain,  and  idol  of  the  people,  he 
returned  to  Rome,  B.  c.  60,  wrhen  Pompey  was  quarreling 
with  the  Senate,  formed  an  alliance  with  him  and  Crassus, 
and  by  their  aid  was  elected  consul.  His  measures  in 
that  high  office  all  tended  to  secure  his  popularity  with  the 
people,  and  supported  by  Pompey  and  Crassus,  he  tri 
umphed  over  the  Senate.  He  then  secured  the  govern- 
csesarsent  ment  of  Cisalpine  Gaul  and  Illyricurn,  with  two 
into  Gaui.  legions,  for  the  extraordinary  term  of  five  years. 
The  Senate  added  the  province  of  Transalpine  Gaul,  then 


CHAP.  I.]  Ccesar  in   Gaul.  47 

threatened  by  the  Allobrogians,  Suevi,  Helvetians,  and 
other  barbaric  tribes,  with  the  intention  of  confining  him 
to  a  dangerous  and  uncertain  field  of  warfare. 

That  field,  however,  established  his  military  fame,  and 
paved  the  way  for  his    subsequent   usurpations.   His  great 

n   ^t  •       YTT  T-<  military 

The  conquests  of  Cassar  in  Western  Europe  are  genius. 
unique  in  the  history  of  war,  and  furnish  no  parallel.  Other 
conquests  may  have  been  equally  brilliant  and  more  impos 
ing,  but  none  were  ever  more  difficult  and  arduous,  requir 
ing  greater  perseverance,  'energy,  promptness,  and  fertility 
of  resources.  The  splendid  successes  of  Lu  cull  us  and 
Pompey  in  Asia  resembled  those  of  Alexander.  We  see 
military  discipline  and  bravery  triumphing  over  the  force 
of  multitudes,  and  a  few  thousand  men  routing  vast  armies 
of  enervated  or  undisciplined  mercenaries.  Such  were  the 
conquests  of  the  English  in  India.  They  make  nis  difficul. 
a  great  impression,  but  the  fortunes  of  an  empire  conquestof 
are  decided  by  a  single  battle.  It  was  not  so  with  GauL 
the  conflicts  of  Caesar  in  Gaul.  He  had  to  fight  with  suc 
cessive  waves  of  barbarians,  inured  to  danger,  adventurous 
and  hardy,  holding  life  in  little  estimation,  willing  to  die  in 
battle,  intrepid  in  soul,  and  bent  on  ultimate  victory.  He 
had  to  fight  in  hostile  territories,  unacquainted  with  the  face 
of  the  country,  at  a  great  distance  from  the  base  of  his 
supplies,  exposed  to  perpetual  perils,  and  surrounded  with 
unknown  difficulties.  And  these  were  appreciated  by  his 
warlike  countrymen,  who  gave  him  the  credit  he  deserved. 
The  ten  years  he  spent  in  Gaul  were  the  years  of  his  truest 
glory,  and  the  most  momentous  in  their  consequences  on 
the  future  civilization  of  the  world,  since  it  was  not  worn- 
out  monarchies  he  added  to  the  empire,  but  a  new  terri 
tory,  inhabited  by  brave  and  simple  races,  who  were  to 
learn  the  arts  and  laws  and  literature  of  Rome,  Results  of 

p   ,        ...     the  Gaulish 

and    supply  the   government  with  powerful  aid  wars. 

in  the    decline    of  its    strength.      It  was   the   conquered 

barbarians  who,  henceforth,  were  to  furnish   Rome    with 


48  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

soldiers,  and  even  scholars  and  statesmen  and  generals. 
Among  them  the  old  civilization  was  to  take  root,  among 
them  new  states  were  to  arise  on  which  the  Romans  could 
impress  their  own  remarkable  characteristics.  It  was  the 
western  provinces  of  the  empire  that  alone  were  vital 
with  energy  and  strength,  and  which  were  destined  to 
perpetuate  the  spirit  of  Roman  institutions.  The  east 
ern  provinces  never  lost  the  impress  of  the  Greek  mind 
and  manners.  They  remained  Greek  even  when  subdued 
by  the  imperial  legions.  Syria,  Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  were 
filled  witli  Grecian  cities,  and  Asiatic  customs  were  modi 
fied  by  Grecian  civilization.  The  West  was  purely  Ro- 
Gauibe-  man,  and  the  Latin  language,  laws,  and  arts 

comes  Latin-  .  ,     .  , .  „ 

ized.  were  continued,  in  a  modified  form,  through  the 

whole  period  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Even  Christianity  had 
a  different  influence  in  the  West  from  what  it  had  in  the 
East.  In  other  words,  the  West  was  completely  Latinized, 
while  the  East  remained  Grecian.  Though  the  East  was 

O 

governed  by  Roman  proconsuls,  they  could  not  change 
the  Grseco-Asiatic  character  of  its  institutions  and  man 
ners  ;  but  the  barbarians  were  willing  to  learn  new  lessons 
from  their  Roman  masters. 

It  would  require  a  volume  to  describe  the  various  cam- 
Greatness  paigns  of  Cassar  in  Gaul,  in  which  a  million  of 
people  were  destroyed.  But  I  only  aim  to  show 
results.  Most  people  are  familiar  with  the  marvelous  gen 
eralship  and  enterprises  of  the  Roman  conqueror — the 
conquest  and  reconquest  of  the  brave  barbarians,  most  of 
whom  were  Celts  ;  the  uprising  of  Germanic  tribes  as 
well,  and  their  fearful  slaughter  near  Coblentz ;  the  bloody 
battles,  the  fearful  massacres,  the  unscrupulous  cruelties 
which  he  directed  ;  the  formidable  insurrection  organized 
by  Vercingetorix  ;  the  spirit  he  infused  into  his  army  ; 
the  incessant  hardships  of  the  soldiers,  crossing  rivers, 
mountains,  and  valleys,  marching  with  their  heavy  bur 
dens —  fighting  amid  every  disadvantage,  until  all  the 


CHAP.  I.]  Ccesar  and  Pompey.  49 

countries  north  of  the  Alps  and  west  of  the  Rhine  ac 
knowledged  his  sway  —  all  these  things  are  narrated  by 
Caesar  himself  with  matchless  force  and  simplicity  of  lan 
guage. 

Caesar  now  probably  aspired  to  the  sovereignty  of  the 
empire,  as  Napoleon  did  after  the  conquest  of 
Italy.  But  he  had  a  great  rival  in  Pompey, 
who  had  remained  chiefly  at  Rome,  during  his  Gaulish 
campaigns,  virtually  dictator,  certainly  the  strongest  citi 
zen.  And  Pompey  had  also  his  ambitious  schemes.  One 
was  the  conqueror  of  the  East ;  the  other  of  the  West. 
One  leaned  to  the  aristocratic  party,  the  other  to  the  pop 
ular.  Pompey  was  proud,  pompous,  and  self-sufficient. 
Caesar  was  politic,  patient,  and  intriguing.  Both  had  an 
inordinate  ambition,  and  both  were  unscrupulous.  Pom 
pey  had  more  prestige,  Caesar  more  genius.  Pompey 
was  a  greater  tactician,  Caesar  a  greater  strategist.  The 
Senate  rallied  around  the  former,  the  people  around  the 
latter.  Cicero  distrusted  both,  and  flattered  each  by  turns, 
but  inclined  to  the  side  of  Pompey,  as  belonging  to  the 
aristocratic  party. 

Between  such  ambitious  rivals  coalition  for  any  length 
of  time   could  not  continue.     Dissensions  arose  between 
them,  and  then  war.     The  contest  was  decided  Battleof 
at   Pharsalia.     On   the  6th  of  June,   B.  c.  48,  Pharsalia- 
"  Greek  met  Greek,"  yet  with  forces  by  no  means  great 
on    either  side.     Pompey  had    only  forty  thousand,  and 
Caesar  less,  but  they  were  veterans,  and  the  victory  was 
complete.     Pompey  fled   to  Egypt,  without  evincing  his 
former   greatness,  paralyzed,   broken,  and   without  hope. 
There  he  miserably  died,  by  the  assassin's  dag-   Death0f 
ger,  at  the  age  of  sixty,  and  the  way  was  now   I 
prepared  for  the  absolute  rule  of  Caesar. 

But  the  party  of  Pompey  rallied,  connected  with  which 
were  some  of  the  noblest  names  of  Rome.  The  battle  of 
Thapsus  proved  as  disastrous  to  Cato  as  Pharsalia  did  to 


50  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  i. 

Pompey.  Caesar  was  uniformly  victorious,  not  merely  over 
the  party  which  had  sustained  Pompey,  but  in  Asia,  Af 
rica,  and  Spain,  which  were  in  revolt.  His  presence  was 
everywhere  required,  and  wherever  he  appeared  his  pres- 
DictatorsMp  ence  was  enough.  He  was  now  dictator  for  ten 
•fCassar.  years.  He  had  overturned  the  constitution  of 
his  country.  He  was  virtually  the  supreme  ruler  of  the 
world.  In  the  brief  period  which  passed  from  his  last 
triumphs  to  his  death,  he  was  occupied  in  legislative  la 
bors,  in  settling  military  colonies,  in  restoring  the  wasted 
population  of  Italy,  in  improving  the  city,  in  reforming 
the  calendar,  and  other  internal  improvements,  evincing 
an  enlarged  and  liberal  mind. 

But  the  nobles  hated  him,  and  had  cause,  in  spite  of  his 
abilities,  his  affability,  magnanimity,  and  forbearance.  He 
had  usurped  unlimited  authority,  and  was  too  strong  to  be 
Death  of  removed  except  by  assassination.  I  need  not 
character,  dwell  on  the  conspiracy  under  the  leadership  of 
Brutus,  and  his  tragic  end  in  the  senate-house,  where  he 
fell,  pierced  by  twenty-two  wounds,  at  the  base  of  Pom- 
pey's  statue,  the  greatest  man  in  Roman  history  —  great 
as  an  orator,  a  writer,  a  general,  and  a  statesman  ;  a  man 
without  vanity,  devoted  to  business,  unseduced  by  pleasure, 
unscrupulous  of  means  to  effect  an  end  ;  profligate,  but  not 
more  so  than  his  times  ;  ambitious  of  power,  but  to  rule, 
when  power  was  once  secured,  for  the  benefit  of  his  coun 
try,  like  many  other  despots  immortal  on  a  bloody  cata 
logue.  After  his  passage  of  the  Rubicon  his  career  can 
only  be  compared  with  that  of  Napoleon. 

But  Roman  territories  were  not  much  enlarged  by 
character  of  Cassar  after  the  conquest  of  Celtic  Europe.  His 
wars.  later  wars  were  either  against  rivals  or  to  settle 

distracted  provinces.  Nor  were  they  increased  in  the  civil 
wars  which  succeeded  his  death,  between  the  various  as 
pirants  for  the  imperial  power  and  those  who  made  one 
more  stand  for  the  old  constitution.  At  the  fatal  battle  of 


CHAP,  i.]         Establishment  of  Imperial  Power.  51 

Philippi,  when  the  hopes  of  Roman  patriots  vanished  for 
ever,  double  the  number  of  soldiers  were  engaged  on  both 
sides  than  at  Pharsalia,  but  fortune  had  left  the  senatorial 
party,  of  which  Brutus  was  the  avenger  and  the  victim. 

Civil  war  was  carried  on  most  vigorously  after  the  death 
of  Julius.     But  it  was  now  plainly  a  matter  be-  Civil  wars 
tween  rival  generals  and  statesmen  for  supreme  JeatVof 
command.    The  chief  contest  was  between  Octa-   Caesar< 
vian  and  Antony,  the  former  young,  artful,  self-controlled, 
and  with  transcendent  abilities  as  a  statesman  ;  the  latter 
bold,  impetuous,  luxurious,  and  the  ablest  of  all  Caesar's 
lieutenants  as  a  general.   Had  he  not  yielded  to  the  fascina 
tions  of  Cleopatra,  he  would  probably  have  been  the  master 
of  the  world.    But  the  sea-fight  of  Actium,  one  of  the  great 
decisive  battles  of  history,  gave  the  empire  of  the  world 
to  Octavian  B.  c.  31,  and  two  years  after  the  victor  cele 
brated  three  magnificent  triumphs,  after  the  ex-  Ascendency 
ample  of  his  uncle,  for  Dalmatia,  Actium,  and  of  Octayian' 
Egypt.      The  kingdom  of  the  Ptolemies  passed  under  the 
rule  of  Caesar.     The  Temple  of  Janus  was  shut,  for  the 
first  time  for  more  than  two  hundred  years  ;  and  the  im 
perial  power  was  peaceably  established  over  the  civilized 
world. 

The  friends  of  liberty  may  justly  mourn  over  the  fall 
of  republican  Rome,  and  the  centralization  of  all  power 
in  the  hands  of  Augustus.  But  it  was  a  calamity  which 
could  not  be  averted,  and  was  a  revolution  which  was 
in  accordance  with  the  necessities  of  the  times.  Necessityfor 
Fifty  years'  civil  war  taught  the  Romans  the  hope-  the  empire> 
lessness  of  the  struggle  to  maintain  their  old  institutions 
so  long  as  the  people  were  corrupt,  and  fortunate  generals 
would  sacrifice  the  public  welfare  to  their  ambition.  Order 
was  better  than  anarchy,  even  though  a  despot  reigned 
supreme.  When  men  are  worse  than  governments,  they 
must  submit  to  the  despotism  of  tyrants.  It  is  idle  to 
dream  of  liberty  with  a  substratum  of  folly  and  vice.  The 


52  TJie   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

strongest  man  will  rule,  but  whether  he  rule  wisely  or 
unwisely,  there  is  no  remedy.  Providence  gave  the  world 
to  the  Romans,  after  continual  and  protracted  wars  for 
seven  hundred  years  ;  and  when  the  people  who  had  con 
quered  the  world  by  their  energy,  prudence,  and  perse 
verance,  were  no  longer  capable  of  governing  themselves, 
then  the  state  fell  into  the  possession  of  a  single  man. 
Under  the  emperors,  the  whole  policy  of  the  govern- 
ment  was  changed.  They  no  longer  thought  of 

' 


the  imperial      „        .  ,.  «  .    »  •. 

policy.  further  aggrandizement,  but  or  retaining  the 
conquests  which  were  already  made.  And  if  they  occa 
sionally  embarked  in  new  wars,  those  wars  were  of  neces 
sity  rather  than  of  ambition,  were  defensive  rather  than 
aggressive.  New  provinces  were  from  time  to  time  added, 
but  in  consequence  of  wars  which  were  waged  in  defense 
of  the  empire.  The  conquest  of  Britain  and  Judea  was 
completed,  and  various  conflicts  took  place  with  the  Ger 
manic  nations,  who,  in  the  reign  of  Antoninus,  formed 
a  general  union  for  the  invasion  of  the  Roman  world. 
These  barbarians  were  the  future  aggressors  on  the  peace 
of  the  empire,  until  it  fell  into  their  hands.  The  empire 
of  Augustus  may  be  said  to  have  reached  the  utmost  limits 
it  ever  permanently  retained,  extending  from  the  Rhine 
and  the  Danube  to  the  Euphrates  and  Mount  Atlas,  em 
bracing  a  population  variously  estimated  from  one  hun 
dred  to  one  hundred  and  thirty  millions. 

When  Augustus  became  the  sovereign  ruler  of  this  vast 
perfection  of  empire,  military  art  had  reached  the  highest  per- 
miiitary  art.  fectjon  ft  ever  attained  among  any  of  the  na 
tions  of  antiquity.  It  required  centuries  to  perfect  this 
science,  if  science  it  may  be  called,  and  the  Romans 
doubtless  borrowed  from  the  people  whom  they  subdued. 
They  learned  to  resist  the  impetuous  assaults  of  semi-bar 
barous  warriors,  the  elephants  of  the  East,  and  the  pha 
lanx  of  the  Greeks.  Military  discipline  was  carried  to  the 
severest  extent  by  Marius,  Pompey,  and  Ca3sar. 


CHAP.  I.]  Military  Genius.  53 

The  Roman  soldier  was  trained  to  march  twenty  miles 
a  day,  under  a  burden  of  eighty  pounds ;  yea,  The  spirit 
to  swim  rivers,  to  climb  mountains,  to  penetrate  mansoidier. 
forests,  and  to  encounter  every  kind  of  danger.  He  was 
taught  that  his  destiny  was  to  die  in  battle.  He  ex 
pected  death.  He  was  ready  to  die.  Death  was  his  duty, 
and  his  glory.  He  enlisted  in  the  armies  with  little  hope 
of  revisiting  his  home.  He  crossed  seas  and  deserts  and 
forests  with  the  idea  of  spending  his  life  in  the  service  of 
his  country.  His  pay  was  only  a  denarius  daily,  equal  to 
about  sixteen  cents  of  our  money.  Marriage  was  discour 
aged  or  forbidden.  He  belonged  to  the  state,  and  the 
state  was  exacting  and  hard.  He  was  reduced  to  abject 
obedience,  yet  he  held  in  his  hand  the  destinies  of  the 
empire.  And  however  insignificant  was  the  legionary  as 
a  man,  he  gained  importance  from  the  great  body  with 
which  he  was  identified.  He  was  the  servant  and  the 
master  of  the  state.  He  had  an  intense  esprit  de  corps. 
He  was  bound  up  in  the  glory  of  his  legion.  Both  religion 
and  honor  bound  him  to  his  standards.  The  golden  eagle 
which  glittered  in  his  front  was  the  object  of  his  fondest 
devotion.  Nor  was  it  possible  to  escape  the  penalty  of 
cowardice  or  treachery,  or  disobedience.  He  could  be 
chastised  with  blows  by  his  centurion  ;  his  general  could 
doom  him  to  death.  Never  was  the  severity  of  military 
discipline  relaxed.  Military  exercises  were  incessant,  in 
winter  as  in  summer.  In  the  midst  of  peace  the  Roman 
troops  were  familiarized  with  the  practice  of  war. 

It  was  the  spirit  which  animated  the  Roman  legions,  and 
the  discipline  to  which  they  were  inured,  which  Military  ge- 
gave  them  their  irresistible  strength.     When  we   RoUma°Qs!he 
remember  that  they  had  not   our  fire-arms,  we  are  sur 
prised  at  their  efficiency,  especially  in  taking  strongly  forti 
fied  cities.     Jerusalem  was  defended  by  a  triple  wall,  and 
the  most  elaborate  fortifications,  and  twenty-four  thousand 
soldiers,  beside  the  aid  received  from  the  citizens ;  and  yet 


54  Tlie   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

it  fell  in  little  more  than  four  months  before  an  army  of 
eighty  thousand  under  Titus.  How  great  the  science  to 
reduce  a  place  of  such  strength,  in  so  short  a  time,  with 
out  the  aid  of  other  artillery  than  the  ancient  catapult  and 
battering-ram  !  Whether  the  military  science  of  the  Ro 
mans  was  superior  or  inferior  to  our  own,  no  one  can 
question  that  it  was  carried  to  utmost  perfection  before  the 
invention  of  gunpowder.  We  are  only  superior  in  the 
application  of  this  great  invention,  especially  in  artillery. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  a  Roman  army  was  superior 
to  a  feudal  army  in  the  brightest  days  of  chivalry.  The 
world  has  produced  no  generals  superior  to  Caesar,  Pom- 
pey,  Sulla,  and  Marius.  No  armies  ever  won  greater 
victories  over  superior  numbers  than  the  Roman,  and  no 
armies  of  their  size,  ever  retained  in  submission  so  great 
an  empire,  and  for  so  long  a  time.  At  no  period  in  the 
history  of  the  empire  were  the  armies  so  large  as  those 
sustained  by  France  in  time  of  peace.  Two  hundred 
thousand  legionaries,  and  as  many  more  auxiliaries,  con 
trolled  diverse  nations  and  powerful  monarchies.  The 
single  province  of  Syria  once  boasted  of  a  military  force 
equal  in  the  number  of  soldiers  to  that  wielded 


taryart.  by  Tiberius.  Twenty-five  legions  made  the 
conquest  of  the  world,  and  retained  that  conquest  for  five 
hundred  years.  The  self-sustained  energy  of  Caesar  in 
Gaul  puts  to  the  blush  the  efforts  of  all  modern  generals, 
except  Frederic  II.,  Marlborough,  Napoleon,  Wellington, 
Grant,  Sherman,  and  a  few  other  great  geniuses  which 
a  warlike  age  developed  ;  nor  is  there  a  better  text-book 
on  the  art  of  war  than  that  furnished  by  Ca?sar  himself  in 
his  Commentaries.  And  the  great  victories  of  the  Romans 
over  barbarians,  over  Gauls,  over  Carthaginians,  over 
Greeks,  over  Syrians,  over  Persians,  were  not  the  result 
of  a  short-lived  enthusiasm,  like  those  of  Attila  and  Tam 
erlane,  but  extended  over  a  thousand  years.  The  Ro 
mans  were  essentially  military  in  all  their  tastes  and  habits. 


CHAP,  i.]  The  Roman  Legion.  55 

Luxurious  senators  and  nobles  showed  the  greatest  cour 
age  and  skill  in  the  most  difficult  campaigns.  Antony, 
Csesar,  Pompey,  and  Lucullus  were,  at  home,  enervated 
and  luxurious,  but,  at  the  head  of  the  legions,  were  capa 
ble  of  any  privation  and  fatigue.  The  Roman  legion  was 
a  most  perfect  organization,  a  great  mechanical  force,  and 
could  sustain  furious  attacks  after  vigor,  patriotism,  and 
public  spirit  had  fled.  For  three  hundred  years  a  vast 
empire  was  sustained  by  mechanism  alone. 

The  legion  is  coeval  with  the  foundation  of  Rome, 
but  the  number  of  the  troops  of  which  it  was  TheR0man 
composed  varied  at  different  periods.  It  rarely  Le£lon- 
exceeded  six  thousand  men.  Gibbon  estimates  the  number 
at  six  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty-six  men.  For 
many  centuries  it  was  composed  exclusively  of  Roman  cit 
izens.  Up  to  the  year  B.  C.  107,  no  one  was  permitted 
to  serve  among  the  regular  troops  except  those  who  were 
regarded  as  possessing  a  strong  personal  interest  in  the 
stability  of  the  republic.  Marius  admitted  all  orders  of 
citizens  ;  and  after  the  close  of  the  Social  War,  B.  C.  87, 
the  whole  free  population  of  Italy  was  allowed  to  serve 
in  the  regular  army.  Claudius  incorporated  with  Itg  conipo_ 
the  legion  the  vanquished  Goths,  and  after  him  Sltlou- 
the  barbarians  filled  up  the  ranks,  on  account  of  the  degen 
eracy  of  the  times.  But  during  the  period  when  the  Ro 
mans  were  conquering  the  world  every  citizen  was  trained 
to  arms,  and  was  liable  to  be  called  upon  to  serve  in  the 
armies.  In  the  early  age  of  the  republic,  the  legion  was 
disbanded  as  soon  as  the  special  service  was  performed, 
and  was  in  all  essential  respects  a  militia.  For  three  cen 
turies,  we  have  no  record  of  a  Roman  army  wintering  in 
the  field  ;  but  when  Southern  Italy  became  the  seat  of 
war,  and  especially  when  Rome  was  menaced  by  foreign 
enemies,  and  still  more  when  a  protracted  foreign  service 
became  inevitable,  the  same  soldiers  remained  in  activity 
for  several  years.  Gradually  the  distinction  between  the 


56  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

soldier  and  the  civilian  was  entirely  obliterated.  The  dis 
tant  wars  of  the  republic,  like  the  prolonged  operations  of 
CaBsar  in  Gaul,  and  the  civil  contests,  made  a  standing 
army  a  necessity.  During  the  civil  wars  between  Caesar 
and  Pompey,  the  legions  were  forty  in  number  ;  under 
Augustus  but  twenty-five.  Alexander  Severus  increased 
The  infantry  them  to  thirty-two.  This  was  the  standing  force 
ofeth?i£8th  °f  the  empire,  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two 

hundred  and  forty  thousand  men,  and  this  was 
stationed  in  the  various  provinces.  The  main  dependence 
of  the  legion  was  on  the  infantry,  which  wore  heavy  armor 

consisting  of  helmet,  breastplate,  greaves  on  the 

legs,  and  buckler  on  the  left  arm  four  feet  in 
length  and  two  and  a  half  in  width.  The  helmet  was  orig 
inally  made  of  leather  or  skin,  strengthened  and  adorned 
by  bronze  or  gold,  and  surmounted  by  a  crest  which  was 
often  of  horse-hair,  and  so  made  as  to  give  an  imposing  look. 
The  crest  not  only  served  for  ornament  but  to  distinguish 
the  different  centurions.  The  breastplate  or  cuirass  was 
generally  made  of  metal,  and  sometimes  was  highly  orna 
mented.  Chain-mail  was  also  used.  The  greaves  were 
of  bronze  or  brass,  with  a  lining  of  leather  or  felt,  and 
reached  above  the  knees.  The  shield,  worn  by  the  heavy- 
armed  infantry,  was  not  round,  like  that  of  the  Greeks, 
but  oval  or  oblong,  adapted  to  the  shape  of  the  body,  and 
was  made  of  wood  or  wicker-work.  The  weapons  were 

a  light  spear,  a  pilum  or  iavelin   six   feet  long, 

Its  weapons.  .  .  s 

terminated  by  a  steel  point,  and  a  sword  with  a 
double  edge,  adapted  to  striking  or  pushing.  The  legion 
was  drawn  up  eight  deep,  and  three  feet  intervened  be 
tween  rank  and  file,  which  disposition  gave  great  activity, 
and  made  it  superior  to  the  Macedonian  phalanx,  the 
strength  of  which  depended  on  sixteen  ranks  of  long 
pikes  wedged  together.  The  cavalry  attached  to  each 

legion  were  three  hundred  men,  and  they  oricr- 

The  cavalry.     .    e  . 

mally  were  selected  from  the  leading  men  in  tho 


CHAP,  i.]  The   Organization  of  the  Legion.  57 

state.  They  were  mounted  at  the  expense  of  the  state, 
and  formed  a  distinct  order.  The  cavalry  was  divided 
into  ten  squadrons ;  and  to  each  legion  was  attached  a 
train  of  ten  military  engines  of  the  largest  size,  and  fifty- 
five  of  the  smaller,  —  all  of  which  discharged  stones  and 
darts  with  great  effect.  This  train  corresponded  with  our 
artillery.  Besides  the  armor  and  weapons  of  the  legion 
aries,  they  usually  carried  on  their  marches  provisions  for 
two  weeks,  and  three  or  four  stakes  used  in  forming  the 
palisade  of  the  camp,  beside  various  tools,  —  altogether  a 
burden  of  sixty  or  eighty  pounds  per  man.  The  general 
period  of  service  for  the  infantry  was  twenty  Termofmiii- 
years,  after  which  the  soldier  received  a  dis-  taryservlce- 
charge  together  with  a  bounty  in  money  or  land. 

The  Roman  legion,  whether  it  was  composed  of  four 
thousand  men,  as  in  the  early  ages  of  the  repub-  organization 
lie,  or  six  thousand,  as  in  the  time  of  Augustus,  ° 
was  divided  into  ten  cohorts,  and  each  cohort  was  com 
posed  of  Hastati,  Principes,  Triarii,  and  Velites.  The 
soldiers  of  the  first  line,  called  Hastati,  consisted  ^  Hagtat} 
of  youths  in  the  bloom  of  manhood,  and  were 
distributed  into  fifteen  companies  or  maniples.  Each 
company  contained  sixty  privates,  two  centurions,  and  a 
standard-bearer.  Two  thirds  were  heavily  armed,  and 
bore  the  long  shield,  the  remainder  carried  only  a  spear 
and  light  javelins.  The  second  line,  the  Prin-  ThePrind- 

i        p  -i         c  11       •  c    pesand  Ve- 

cipes,  was  composed  ot  men  m  the  mil  vigor  or  utes. 
life,  divided  also  into  fifteen  companies,  all  heavily  armed, 
and  distinguished  by  the  splendor  of  their  equipments. 
The  third  body,  the  Triarii,  was  also  composed  of  tried 
veterans,  in  fifteen  companies,  the  least  trustworthy  of 
which  were  placed  in  the  rear.  These  formed  three  lines. 
The  Velites  were  light-armed  troops,  employed  on  out 
post  duty,  and  mingled  with  the  horsemen.  The  Hastati 
were  so  called  because  they  were  armed  with  the  hasta ; 
the  Principes,  for  being  placed  so  near  to  the  front  ;  the 


58  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I 

Triarii,  from  having  been  arrayed  behind  the  first  two  lines 
as    a   body  of  reserve,  armed   with   the  pilum, 

The  Triarii.  .  J 

thicker  and  stronger  than  the  Grecian  lance, — 
four  and  a  half  feet  long,  of  wood,  with  a  barbed  head  of 
iron,  —  so  that  the  whole  length  of  the  weapon  was  six 
feet  nine  inches.  It  was  used  either  to  throw  or  thrust 
with,  and  when  it  pierced  the  enemy's  shield,1  the  iron 
head  was  bent,  and  the  spear,  owing  to  the  twist  in  the 
iron,  still  held  to  the  shield.2  Each  soldier  carried  two  of 
these  weapons.3  The  Principes  were  in  the  front  ranks  of 

the  phalanx,  clad  in  complete  defensive  armor, 

ThePilarii.  .  .  '        .? 

—  men  in  the  vigor  of  strength.  The  I  ilani 
were  in  the  rear,  who  threw  the  heavy  pilum  over  the 
heads  of  their  comrades,  in  order  to  break  the  enemy's 
line.  In  the  time  of  the  empire,  when  the  legion  was 
modified,  the  infantry  wore  cuirasses  and  helmets,  and 
two  swords ;  namely,  a  long  one  and  a  dagger.  The 
select  infantry  carried  a  long  spear  and  a  shield,  the  rest 
a  pilum.  Each  man  carried  a  saw,  a  basket,  a  mattock, 
a  hatchet,  a  leather  strap,  a  hook,  a  chain,  and  provisions 

for. three  days.     The  Equites  wore  helmets  and 

TheEquites.  .  J  .  -111  i 

cuirasses,  like  the  infantry,  with  a  broad  sword 
at  the  right  side,  and  in  their  hand  a  long  pole.  A  buckler 
swung  at  the  horse's  flank.  They  were  also  furnished 
with  a  quiver  containing  three  or  four  javelins. 

The  artillery  were  used  both  for  hurling  missiles  in 
Theartii-  battle,  and  for  the  attack  of  fortresses.  The 
lery-  tormentum,  which  was  an  elastic  instrument, 

discharged  stones  and  darts,  and  was  continued  until  the 
discovery  of  gunpowder.  In  besieging  a  city,  the  ram  was 
employed  for  destroying  the  lower  part  of  a  wall,  and  the 
balista,  which  discharged  stones,  was  used  to  overthrow 
the  battlements.  The  balista  would  project  a  stone  weigh 
ing  from  fifty  to  three  hundred  pounds.  The  aries,  or 
battering-ram,  consisted  of  a  large  beam  made  of  the 

l  Liv.  viii.  8.  2  Plut.  Mar.  25.  s  Polvb.  vi.  23. 


CHAP.  LI  Military  Engines.  59 

trunk  of  a  tree,  frequently  one  hundred  feet  in  length, 
to  one  end  of  which  was  fastened  a  mace  of  iron  or  bronze, 
which  resembled  in  form  the  head  of  a  ram,  and  was  often 
suspended  by  ropes  from  a  beam  fixed  transversely  over 
it,  so  that  the  soldiers  were  relieved  from  supporting  its 
weight,  and  were  able  to  give  it  a  rapid  and  forcible  mo 
tion^  backward    and    forward,       And   when    this   machine 
was  further  aided  by  placing  a  frame  in  which  it  was  sus 
pended  upon  wheels,  and  constructing  over  it  a  roof,  so  as 
to  form  a  testudo,  which  protected  the  besieging  TheTestu- 
party  from  the    assaults  of  the  besieged,   there  d 
was 'no  tower  so    strong,  no  wall  so  thick,  as  to  resist  a 
long-continued  attack.     Its  great  length  enabled  the  sol- 
diers  to  work  across  the  ditch,  and  as  many  as  one  hundred 
men  were  often  employed  upon  it.     The  Romans  learned 
from  the  Greeks  the  art  of  building  this  formidable  engine, 
which  was  used  with  great  effect  by  Alexander,  but  with 
still  greater  by  Vespasian  in  the  siege  of  Jerusalem.     It 
was  first  used  by  the  Romans  in  the  siege  of  Syracuse. 
The  vinea  was  a  sort  of  roof  under  which   the   soldiers 
protected  themselves  when  they  undermined  walls.     The 
helepolis,  also  used  in  the  attack  of  cities,  was  Th?Hele_ 
a  square  tower  furnished  with  all  the  means  of 
assault,    This  also  was  a  Greek  invention,  and  that  used  by 
Demetrius  at  the  siege  of  Rhodes,  B.  c.  306,  was  one  hun 
dred  and  thirty-five  feet  high  and  sixty-eight  wide,  divided 
into  nine  stories.     Towers  of  this  description  were  used 
at  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,1  and  were  manned  by  two  hun 
dred  men  employed  upon  the  catapults  and  rams.     The 
turris,  a  tower  of  the  same  class,  was  used  both   TheTurrig 
by  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  even  by  Asiatics. 
Mithridates  used  one  at  the  siege  of  Cyzicus  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  in  height.     This  most  formidable  engine  was 
generally  made  of  beams  of  wood  covered  on  three  sides 
with   iron    and    sometimes   with    raw  hides.     They  were 
i  Josephus,  B.  J.,  ii.  19. 


60  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  i. 

higher  than  the  walls  and  all  the  other  fortifications  of  a 
besieged  place,  divided  into  stories  pierced  with  windows. 
In  and  upon  them  were  stationed  archers  and  slingers, 
and  in  the  lower  story  was  a  battering-ram.  They  also 
Scaimg-iad-  carried  scaling-ladders,  so  that  when  the  wall 
was  cleared,  these  were  placed  against  the  walls. 
They  were  placed  upon  wheels,  and  brought  as  near  the 
walls  as  possible.  It  was  impossible  to  resist  these  power 
ful  engines,  unless  they  were  burned,  or  the  ground  under 
mined  upon  which  they  stood,  except  by  overturning  them 
with  stones  or  iron-shod  beams  hung  from  a  mast  on  the 
wall,  or  by  increasing  the  height  of  the  wall,  or  the  erection 
of  temporary  towers  on  the  wall  beside  them. 

Thus  there  was  no  ancient  fortification  capable  of  with 
standing  a  long  siege  when  the  besieged  city  was  short 
of  defenders  or  provisions.  With  equal  forces  an  attack 
was  generally  a  failure,  for  the  defenders  had  al- 
ways  a  great  advantage.  But  when  the  number 
of  defenders  was  reduced,  or  when  famine  pressed,  the  skill 
and  courage  of  the  assailants  would  ultimately  triumph. 
Some  ancient  cities  made  a  most  obstinate  resistance,  like 
Tarentum  ;  Carthage,  which  stood  a  siege  of  four  years ; 
Numantia  in  Spain,  and  Jerusalem.  When  cities  were 
Ordinary  of  immense  size,  population,  and  resources,  like 
tiSe.  Rome  when  besieged  by  Alaric,  it  was  easier  to 

take  them  by  cutting  off  all  ingress  and  egress,  so  as  to  pro 
duce  famine.  Tyre  was  only  taken  by  Alexander  by  cut 
ting  off  the  harbor.  Babylon  could  not  have  been  taken  by 
Cyrus  by  assault,  since  the  walls  were  three  hundred  and 
thirty-seven  feet  high,  according  to  Herodotus,  and  the  ditch 
too  wide  for  the  use  of  battering-rams.  He  resorted  to  an 
expedient  of  which  the  blinded  inhabitants  of  that  doomed 
city  never  dreamed,  which  rendered  their  impregnable  for 
tifications  useless.  Nor  would  the  Romans  have  probably 
prevailed  against  Jerusalem  had  not  famine  decimated  and 
weakened  the  people.  Fortified  cities,  though  scarcely  ever 


CHAP,  i.]  The   Officers  of  the  Legion.  61 

impregnable,  were  yet  more  in  use  in  ancient  than  mod 
ern  times,    and  greatly  delayed    the    operations  strength 
of  advancing  armies.     And  it  was  probably  the 
fortified  camp  of  the  Romans,  which  protected 
an   army  against    surprises  and  other  misfortunes,  which 
gave  such   efficacy  to  the  legions. 

The  chief  officers  of  the  legion  were  the  tribunes,  and 
originally  there  was  one  in  each  legion  from  the  TheTrib. 
three  tribes  —  the  Ramnes,  Luceres,  and  Tities.  unes- 
In  the  time  of  Polybius  the  number  in  each  legion  was  six. 
Their  authority  extended  equally  over  the  whole  legion  ; 
but,  to  prevent  confusion,  it  was  the  custom  for  these  mili 
tary  tribunes  to  divide  themselves  into  three  sections  of  two, 
and  each  pair  undertook  the  routine  duties  for  two  months 
out  of  six.  They  nominated  the  centurions,  and  assigned 
to  each  the  company  to  which  he  belonged.  These  trib 
unes,  at  first,  were  chosen  by  the  commander-in-chief,  — 
by  the  kings  and  consuls  ;  but  during  the  palmy  days  of 
the  republic,  when  the  patrician  power  was  preeminent, 
they  were  elected  by  the  people,  that  is,  the  citizens. 
Later  they  were  named  half  by  the  Senate  and  half  by  the 
consuls.  No  one  was  eligible  to  this  great  office  who  had 
not  served  ten  years  in  the  infantry  or  five  in  the  cav 
alry.  They  were  distinguished  by  their  dress  from  the 
common  soldier.  Next  in  rank  to  the  tribunes,  who 
corresponded  to  the  rank  of  brigadiers  and  colonels  in 
our  times,  were  the  centurions,  of  whom  there  TheCentu. 
were  sixty  in  each  legion,  —  men  who  were  nons> 
more  remarkable  for  calmness  and  sagacity  than  for  cour 
age  and  daring  valor;  men  who  would  keep  their  posts 
at  all  hazards.  It  was  their  duty  to  drill  the  soldiers,  to 
inspect  arms,  clothing,  and  food,  to  visit  the  sentinels,  and 
regulate  the  conduct  of  the  men.  They  had  the  power 
of  inflicting  corporal  punishment.  They  were  chosen  for 
merit  solely,  until  the  later  ages  of  the  empire,  when  their 
posts  were  bought,  as  in  the  English  army.  These  centu- 


62  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

rions  were  of  unequal  rank,  —  those  of  the  Triarii  before 
those  of  the  Principes,  and  those  of  the  Principes  before 
those  of  the  Hastati.  The  first  centurion  of  the  first  man 
iple  of  the  Triarii  stood  next  in  rank  to  the  tribunes,  and 
had  a  seat  in  the  military  councils,  and  his  office  was  very 
lucrative.  To  his  charge  was  intrusted  the  eagle  of  the 
legion.1  As  the  centurion  could  rise  from  the  ranks,  and 
rose  by  regular  gradation  through  the  different  maniples 
of  the  Hastati,  Principes,  and  Triarii,  there  was  great  in 
ducement  held  out  to  the  soldiers.  In  the  Roman  legion 
Gradation  of  ^  vv°uld  seem  that  there  was  a  regular  gradation 

of  rank,  although  there  were  but  few  distinct 
offices.  But  the  gradation  was  not  determined  by  length 
of  service,  but  for  merit  alone,  of  which  the  tribunes  were 
the  sole  judges.  Hence  the  tribune  of  a  Roman  legion 
had  more  power  than  that  of  a  modern  colonel.  As  the 
tribunes  named  the  centurions,  so  the  centurions  appointed 
their  lieutenants,  who  were  called  sub-centurions. 

There  was  a  change  in  the  constitution  and  disposition  of 
Change  m  *ne  ^gion  after  the  time  of  Marius,  until  the  fall 
tta^of*1!^*"  °f  *ne  republic.  The  legions  were  thrown  open 

to  men  of  all  grades  ;  they  were  all  armed  and 
equipped  alike ;  the  lines  were  reduced  to  two,  with  a 
space  between  each  cohort,  of  which  there  were  five  in 
each  line  ;  the  young  soldiers  were  placed  in  the  rear,  and 
not  the  van  ;  the  distinction  between  Hastati,  Principes, 
and  Triarii  ceased  ;  the  Velites  disappeared,  their  work 
being  done  by  the  foreign  mercenaries  ;  the  cavalry  ceased 
to  be  part  of  the  legion,  and  became  a  distinct  body  ;  and 
the  military  was  completely  severed  from  the  rest  of  the 
state.  Formerly  no  one  could  aspire  to  office  who  had  not 
completed  ten  years  of  military  service,  but  in  the  time  of 
Cicero  a  man  could  pass  through  all  the  great  dignities  of 
the  state  with  a  very  limited  experience  of  military  life. 
Cicero  himself  served  but  one  campaign. 

1  Liv.  xxv.  5;  Caes.  B.  C.,  vi.  6. 


CHAP,  i.]  Changes  in  the  Legion.  63 

Under  the   emperors,   there  were   still  other   changes. 
The  regular  army  consisted  of  legions  and  sup-  changes  un- 

.  i f?   .  der  the 

plementa,  —  the  latter  being  subdivided  into  the   emperors. 
imperial  guards  and  the  auxiliary  troops. 

The  auxiliaries  (Socii)  consisted  of  troops  from  the 
states  in  alliance  with  Rome,  or  those  compelled  to  furnish 
subsidies.  The  infantry  of  the  allies  was  generally  more 
numerous  than  that  of  the  Romans,  while  the  cavalry  was 
three  times  as  numerous.  All  the  auxiliaries  were  paid 
by  the  state  ;  the  infantry  received  the  same  pay  as  the 
Roman  infantry,  but  the  cavalry  only  two  thirds  of  what 
was  paid  to  the  Roman  cavalry.  The  common  Pay  of  sol. 
foot-soldier  received  in  the  time  of  Polybius  three  d 
and  a  half  asses  a  day,  equal  to  about  six  farthings  ster 
ling  money  ;  the  horseman  three  times  as  much.  The 
praetorian  cohorts  received  twice  as  much  as  the  legion 
aries.  Julius  Caesar  allowed  about  six  asses  a  day  as  the 
pay  of  the  legionary,  and  under  Augustus  the  daily  pay 
was  raised  to  ten  asses — little  more  than  four  pence  per 
day.  Domitian  raised  the  stipend  still  higher.  The  sol 
dier,  however,  was  fed  and  clothed  by  the  government. 

The  praetorian  cohort  was  a  select  body  of  troops  insti 
tuted  by  Augustus  to  protect  his  person,  and  The  Prseto. 
consisted  of  ten  cohorts,  each  of  one  thousand  riancohort- 
men,  chosen  from  Italy.  This  number  was  increased  by 
Vitellius  to  sixteen  thousand,  and  they  were  assembled 
by  Tiberius  in  a  permanent  camp,  which  was  strongly  for 
tified.  They  had  peculiar  privileges,  and  when  they  had 
served  sixteen  years,  received  twenty  thousand  sesterces, 
or  more  than  one  hundred  pounds  sterling.  Each  praeto 
rian  had  the  rank  of  a  centurion  in  the  regular  army. 
Like  the  body-guard  of  Louis  XIV.,  they  were  all  gentle 
men,  and  formed  gradually  a  great  power,  like  the  janis 
saries  at  Constantinople,  and  frequently  disposed  of  the 
purple  itself.  It  would  thus  appear  that  the  centurion 
only  received  twice  the  pay  of  the  ordinary  legionary. 


64  TJie   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

There  was  not  therefore  so  much  difference  in  rank  be 
tween  a  private  and  a  captain  as  in  our  day.  There  were 
no  aristocratic  distinctions  in  the  ancient  world  so  marked 
as  in  the  modern. 

Our  notice  of  the  Roman  legion  would  be  incomplete 
The  Roman  without  allusion  to  the  camp  in  which  the  sol- 
camp.  jjgj.  virtually  lived.  A  Roman  army  never 

halted  for  a  single  night  without  forming  a  regular  in- 
trenchment  capable  of  holding  all  the  fighting  men,  the 
beasts  of  burden,  and  the  baggage.  When  the  army 
could  not  retire,  during  the  winter  months,  into  some 
city,  it  was  compelled  to  live  in  the  camp.  It  was  ar 
ranged  and  fortified  according  to  a  uniform  plan,  so  that 
every  company  and  individual  had  a  place  assigned.  We 
cannot  tell  when  this  practice  of  intrenchment  began  ;  it 
was  matured  gradually,  like  all  other  things  pertaining  to 
the  art  of  war.  The  system  was  probably  brought  to  per 
fection  during  the  wars  with  Hannibal.  Skill  in  the  choice 
of  ground,  giving  facilities  for  attack  and  defense,  and  for 
procuring  water  and  other  necessities,  was  of  great  account 
with  the  generals.  An  area  of  about  five  thousand  square 
feet  was  allowed  for  a  company  of  infantry,  and  ten 
thousand  feet  for  a  troop  of  thirty  dragoons.  The  form 
of  a  camp  was  an  exact  square,  the  length  of  each  side 
being  two  thousand  and  seventeen  feet.  There  was  a 
space  between  the  ramparts  and  the  tents  of  two  hundred 
feet  to  facilitate  the  marching  in  and  out  of  soldiers,  and 
to  guard  the  cattle  and  booty.  The  principal  street  was 
one  hundred  feet  wide,  and  was  called  Principia.  The 
defenses  of  the  camp  consisted  of  a  ditch,  the  earth  from 
which  was  thrown  inwards,  and  strong  palisades  of  wooden 
stakes  upon  the  top  of  the  earthwork  so  formed.  The 
ditch  was  sometimes  fifteen  feet  deep,  and  the  vallum  or 
rampart  ten  feet  in  height.  When  the  army  encamped 
for  the  first  time  the  tribunes  administered  an  oath  to  each 
individual,  including  slaves,  to  the  effect  that  they  would 


CHAP,  i.]  The  Camp.  —  Line  of  March.  65 

steal  nothing  out  of  the  camp.  Every  morning  at  day 
break,  the  centurions  and  the  equites  presented  Theguard- 
themselves  before  the  tents  of  the  tribunes,  and  the'Tampf 
the  tribunes  in  like  manner  presented  themselves  to  the 
pra3torian,  to  learn  the  orders  of  the  consuls,  which  through 
the  centurions  were  communicated  to  the  soldiers.  Four 
companies  took  charge  of  the  principal  street,  to  see  that 
it  was  properly  cleaned  and  watered.  One  company  took 
charge  of  the  tent  of  the  tribune,  a  strong  guard  attended 
to  the  horses,  and  another  of  fifty  men  stood  beside  the 
tent  of  the  general  that  he  might  be  protected  from  open 
danger  and  secret  treachery.  The  velites  mounted  guard 
the  whole  night  and  day  along  the  whole  extent  of  the 
vallum,  and  each  gate  was  guarded  by  ten  men.  The 
equites  were  intrusted  with  the  duty  of  acting  as  sentinels 
during  the  night,  and  most  ingenious  measures  were  adopted 
to  secure  their  watchfulness  and  fidelity.  The  watchword 
for  the  night  was  given  by  the  commander-in-chief.  "  On 
the  first  signal  being  given  by  the  trumpet,  the  The  break- 
tents  were  all  struck  and  the  baggage  packed.  camppo1 
At  the  second  signal,  the  baggage  was  placed  upon  the 
beasts  of  burden  ;  and  at  the  third  the  whole  armv  beo-an 

**  O 

to  move.  Then  the  herald,  standing  at  the  right  hand  of 
the  general,  demands  thrice  if  they  are  ready  for  war,  to 
which  they  all  respond  with  loud  and  repeated  cheers  that 
they  are  ready,  and  for  the  most  part,  being  filled  with 
martial  ardor,  anticipate  the  question, 4  and  raise  their  right 
hands  on  high  with  a  shout.'  " l 

Josephus  gives  an  account  of  the  line  of  march  in  which 
the  army  of  Vespasian  entered  Galilee.     "  1.  The  light- 
armed    auxiliaries    and    bowmen,    advancing    to   L5neof 
reconnoiter.     2.  A  detachment  of  Roman  heavy-  March- 
armed  troops,  horse  and  foot.     3.  Ten  men  out  of  every 
century  or  company,  carrying  their  own  equipments  and 
the  measures  of  the  camp.     4.  The  baggage  of  Vespasian 

l  Smith,  Diet,  of  Ant.,  art.  Castra. 
5 


66  The  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  r. 

and  his  legati  guarded  by  a  strong  body  of  horse.  5.  Ves 
pasian  himself,  attended  by  his  horse-guard  and  a  body  of 
spearmen.  6.  The  peculiar  cavalry  of  the  legion.  7.  The 
artillery  dragged  by  mules.  8.  The  legati,  tribunes,  and 
prefects  of  cohorts,  guarded  by  a  body  of  picked  soldiers. 
9.  The  standards,  surrounding  the  eagle.  10.  The  trum 
peters.  11.  The  main  body  of  the  infantry,  six  abreast, 
accompanied  by  a  centurion,  whose  duty  it  was  to  see  that 
the  men  kept  their  ranks.  12.  The  whole  body  of  slaves 
attached  to  each  legion,  driving  the  mules  and  beasts  of 
burden  loaded  with  the  baggage.  13.  Behind  all  the  le 
gions  followed  the  mercenaries.  14.  The  rear  was  brought 
up  by  a  strong  body  of  cavalry  and  infantry."  1 

From  what  has  come  down  to  us  of  Roman  military 
Excitements  life,  it  appears  to  have  been  full  of  excitement, 
life™11  toil,  danger,  and  hardship.  The  pecuniary  re 
wards  of  the  soldier  were  small.  He  was  paid  in  glory. 
No  profession  brought  so  much  honor  as  the  military. 
And  from  the  undivided  attention  of  a  great  people  to 
this  profession,  it  was  carried  to  all  the  perfection  which 
could  be  attained  until  the  great  invention  of  gunpowder 
changed  the  art  of  war.  It  was  not  the  number  of  men 

O 

employed  in  the  armies  which  particularly  arrests  atten 
tion,  but  the  spirit  and  genius  which  animated  them.  The 
Romans  loved  war,  but  so  reduced  it  to  a  science  that  it 
required  comparatively  small  armies  to  conquer  the  world. 
Sulla  defeated  Mithridates  with  only  thirty  thousand  men, 
while  his  adversary  marshaled  against  him  over 


armies.  one  hundred  thousand  ;  and  Cassar  had  only  ten 
legions  to  effect  the  conquest  of  Gaul,  and  none  of  these 
were  of  Italian  origin.  At  the  great  decisive  battle  of 
Pharsalia,  when  most  of  the  available  forces  of  the  empire 
were  employed,  on  one  side  or  the  other,  Pompey  com 
manded  a  legionary  army  of  forty-five  thousand  men  ;  and 
the  cavalry  amounted  to  seven  thousand  more,  but  among 

1  Josephus,  B.  J.,  iii.  6,  §  2. 


CHAP.  I.]  Consolidation  of  Power.  67 

them  were  included  the  flower  of  the  Roman  nobility. 
The  auxiliary  force  has  not  been  computed,  although  it 
was  probably  numerous.  Caesar  had  under  him  only 
twenty-two  thousand  of  legionaries  and  one  thousand  cav 
alry.  But  every  man  in  both  armies  was  prepared  to  con 
quer  or  die.  The  forces  were  posted  on  the  open  plain, 
and  the  battle  was  really  a  hand-to-hand  encounter,  in 
which  the  soldiers,  after  hurling  their  lances,  fought  with 
their  swords  chiefly.  And  when  the  cavalry  of  Pompey 
rushed  upon  the  legionaries  of  Caesar,  no  blows  were 
wasted  on  the  mailed  panoply  of  the  mounted  Romans, 
but  were  aimed  at  the  face  alone,  as  that  alone  was  un 
protected.  The  battle  was  decided  bv  the  cool-  HOW  hat- 

"  .  ties  were 

ness,  bravery,  and  discipline  of  veterans,  inspired  decided. 
by  the  genius  of  the  greatest  general  of  antiquity.     Less 
than  one  hundred  thousand  men,  in  all  probability,  were 
engaged  in  one  of  the  most  memorable  conflicts  which  the 
world  has  seen. 

Thus  it  was,  by  unparalleled  heroism  in  war,  and  a  uni 
form  policy  in  government,  that  Rome  became  Gradual  or_ 
the  mistress  of  the  world.  The  Roman  conquests  S£™of 
have  never  been  surpassed,  for  they  were  retained  pow 
until  the  empire  fell.  I  wish  that  I  could  have  dwelt  on 
these  conquests  more  in  detail,  and  presented  more  fully 
the  brilliant  achievements  of  individuals.  It  took  nearly 
two  hundred  years,  after  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  to 
regain  supremacy  over  the  neighboring  people,  and  an 
other  century  to  conquer  Italy.  The  Romans  did  not 
contend  with  regular  armies  until  they  were  brought  in 
conflict  with  the  king  of  Epirus  and  the  phalanx  of  the 
Greeks,  "  which  improved  their  military  tactics,  and  intro 
duced  between  the  combatants  those  mutual  regards  of 
civilized  nations  which  teach  men  to  honor  their  adversa 
ries,  to  spare  the  vanquished,  and  to  lay  aside  wrath  when 
the  struggle  is  ended."  In  the  fifth  century  of  her  exist 
ence,  the  republic  appears  in  peculiar  splendor.  Military 


68  The   Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

chieftains  do  not  transcend  their  trusts;  the  aristocracy 
are  equally  distinguished  for  exploits  and  virtues  ;  the 
magistrates  maintain  simplicity  of  manners  and  protect  the 
rights  of  the  citizens  ;  the  citizens  are  self-sacrificing  and 
ever  ready  to  obey  the  call  to  arms,  laying  aside  great 
commands  and  retiring  poor  to  private  stations.  Marcus 
Valerius  Corvus,  after  filling  twenty-one  curule  offices, 
Magnanimity  returns  to  agricultural  life  ;  Marcus  Curius  Den- 
tatus  retains  no  part  of  the  rich  spoils  of  the 


Sabines  ;  Fabricius  rejects  the  gold  of  the  Samnites  and 
the  presents  of  Pyrrhus.  The  most  trustworthy  are  ele 
vated  to  places  of  dignity  and  power.  Senators  mingle  in 
the  ranks  of  the  legions,  and  eighty  of  them  die  on  the 
field  of  Canna3.  Discipline  is  enforced  to  cruelty,  and 
Manlius  Torquatus  punishes  with  death  a  disobedient  son. 
Soldiers  who  desert  the  field  are  decimated  or  branded  with 
dishonor.  Faith  is  kept  even  with  enemies,  and  Regulus 
returns  a  voluntary  prisoner  to  his  deadly  enemies. 

After  the  consolidation  of  Roman  power  in  Italy,  it 
took  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  more  only  to  complete 
the  conquest  of  the  world  —  of  Northern  Africa,  Spain, 
Gaul,  Illyria,  Epirus,  Greece,  Macedonia,  Asia  Minor, 
Pontus,  Syria,  Egypt,  Bithynia,  Cappadocia,  Pergamus, 
and  the  islands  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  conquest  of 
Results  of  Carthage  left  Rome  without  a  rival  in  the  Medi- 

different  ,      .  .   ,          , 

wars.  terranean,  and    promoted    intercourse   with    the 

Greeks.  The  Illyrian  wars  opened  to  the  Romans  the 
road  to  Greece  and  Asia,  and  destroyed  the  pirates  of  the 
Adriatic.  The  invasion  of  Cisalpine  Gaul,  now  that  part 
of  Italy  which  is  north  of  the  Apennines,  protected  Italy 
from  the  invasion  of  barbarians.  The  Macedonian  War 
against  Philip  put  Greece  under  the  protection  of  Rome, 
and  that  against  Antiochus  laid  Syria  at  her  mercy  ;  and 
when  these  kingdoms  were  reduced  to  provinces,  the  way 
was  opened  to  further  conquests  in  the  East,  and  the  Med 
iterranean  became  a  Roman  lake. 


CHAP.  I.]  Results  of  Universal  Empire.  69 

But  these  conquests  introduce  luxury,  wealth,  pride, 
and  avarice,  with  arts,  refinements,  and  litera-  EffectofRo- 
ture.  These  degrade  while  they  elevate.  Civil-  q^tTon 
ization  becomes  the  alternate  triumph  of  good  s 
and  evil  influences,  and  a  doubtful  boon.  Successful  war 
creates  great  generals,  and  founds  great  families,  increases 
slavery,  and  promotes  inequalities.  Demagogues  arise  who 
seduce  and  deceive  the  people,  and  they  enroll  themselves 
under  the  standards  of  their  idols.  Rome  is  governed  by 
an  oligarchy  of  military  chieftains,  and  has  become  more 
aristocratic  and  more  democratic  at  the  same  time.  The 
people  gain  rights,  only  to  yield  to  the  supremacy  of  dem- 

agoo-ues.    The  Senate  is  humbled,  but  remains  the  ascend- 

11 
ant  power,  for  generals  compose  it,  and  those  who  have 

held  great  offices.     Meanwhile  the  great  generals  struggle 
for  supremacy.     Civil  wars  follow  in  the  train  of  foreign 
conquests.     Marius,  Sulla,  Pompey,  Julius,  Antony,  Au 
gustus,  sacrifice  the    state  to  their  ambition.     Good  men 
lament,  and  protest,  and  hide  themselves.     Cato,   Degeneracy 
Cicero,    Brutus,    speak    in    vain.      Degenerate   undermines 
morals  keep  pace  with  civil  contests.     Rome  rev-  power. 
els  in  the  spoils  of  all  kingdoms  and  countries,  is  intoxi 
cated  with  power,  becomes  cruel  and  tyrannical,  and,  after 
yielding   up   the    lives   of  citizens    to  fortunate    generals, 
yields  at  last  her  liberties,  and  imperial  despotism  begins 
its    reign,  —  hard,    immovable,    resolute,  —  under    which 
genius  is  crushed,  and  life  becomes  epicurean,  but  under 
which  property  and  order  are  preserved.     The  regime  is 
bad  ;  but  it  is  a  change  for  the  better.     War  has  produced 
its  fruits.    It  has  added  empire,  but  undermined  prosperity ; 
it  has  created  a  great  military  monarchy,  but  destroyed 
liberty  ;    it  has  brought  wealth,  but  introduced  inequal 
ities  ;'  it  has  filled  the  city  with  spoils,  but  sown  the  vices 
of  self-interest.     The  machinery  is  perfect,   but   life  has 
fled.     It  is  henceforth  the  labor  of  emperors  to  keep  to 
gether  their  vast  possessions  with  this  machinery,  which  at 


70  Tfie  Conquests  of  the  Romans.  [CHAP.  I. 

last  wears  out,  since  there  is  neither  genius  to  repair  it 
nor  patriotism  to  work  it.  It  lasts  three  hundred  years, 
but  is  broken  to  pieces  by  the  Goths  and  Vandals. 

The  highest  authority  in  relation  to  the  construction  of  an  army  is 
Polybius,  who  was  contemporary  with  Scipio,  at  a  period  when  Roman 
discipline  was  most  perfect.  A  fragment  from  his  sixth  book  gives 
considerable  information.  A  chapter  of  Livy  —  the  eighth  —  is  also 
very  much  prized.  Salmasius  and  Lepsius  have  also  written  learned 
treatises.  Smith's  Dictionary,  which  is  full  of  details  in  every  thing 
pertaining  to  the  weapons,  the  armor,  the  military  engines,  the  rewards 
and  punishments  of  the  soldiers,  refers  to  Folard's  Coinmentaire,  to 
Memoires  Militaires  sur  les  Grecs  et  les  Romains,  by  Guischard,  and 
to  the  Hixtoire  des  Campaynes  d' Hannibal  en  Italie,  by  Vaudencourt. 
Tacitus,  Sallust,  Livy,  Dion  Cassius,  Pliny,  and  Caesar  reveal  inci 
dentally  much  that  we  wish  to  know.  Gibbon  gives  some  important 
facts  in  his  first  chapter.  The  subject  of  ancient  machines  is  treated 
by  Folard's  Commentary  attached  to  his  translation  of  Polybius. 
Caesar's  Commentaries  give  us,  after  all,  the  liveliest  idea  of  the  mil 
itary  habits  and  tactics  of  the  Romans.  Josephus  describes  with 
great  vividness  the  siege  of  Jerusalem.  The  article  on  Exercit.usy 
by  Prof.  Ramsay,  in  Smith's  Dictionary,  is  the  fullest  I  have  read 
pertaining  to  the  structure  of  a  Roman  army. 

For  the  narrative  of  wars,  the  reader  is  referred  to  ordinary  Roman 
histories  —  to  Livy  and  Csesar  especially  ;  to  Niebuhr,  Mommsen,  Ar 
nold,  and  Liddell.  See  also  Durny,  Hint,  des  Romains;  Michelet, 
Hist,  de  Rom.  Kapoleon's  History  of  Cassar  should  be  read,  admira 
ble  in  style,  and  interesting  in  matter,  although  a  sophistical  defense 
of  usurpation. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  MATERIAL  GRANDEUR  AND  GLORY  OF  THE  ROMAN 
EMPIRE. 

To  the  eye  of  an  ancient  traveler  there  must  have  been 
something  very  grand  and  impressive  in  the  external  as 
pects  of  wealth  and  power  which  the  Roman  Empire,  in 
the  period  of  its  greatest  glory,  presented  in  every  city 
and  province.  It  will  therefore  be  my  aim  in  this  chapter 
to  present  those  objects  of  pride  and  strength  which  ap 
pealed  to  the  senses  of  an  ordinary  observer,  and  such  as 
would  first  arrest  his  attention  were  he  to  describe  the 
wonders  he  beheld  to  those  who  were  imperfectly  ac 
quainted  with  them. 

It  is  generally  admitted  that  Roman  greatness  culmi 
nated  during  the  reigns  of  the  Antonines,  about  culmination 
the  middle  of  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  greatness. 
era.  At  that  period  we  perceive  the  highest  triumphs  of 
material  civilization  and  the  proudest  spirit  of  panygeric 
and  self-confidence.  To  the  eye  of  contemporaries  it 
seemed  that  Rome  was  destined  to  be  the  mistress  of  the 
world  forever. 

We  naturally  glance,  in  the  first  place,  to  the  extent  of 
that  vast  empire  which  has  had  no  parallel  in  ancient  or 
modern  times,  and  which  was  erected  on  the  ruins  of  all 
the  powerful  states  of  antiquity.  It  was  a  most  wonder 
ful  centralization  of  power,  spreading  its  arms  of  hopeless 
despotism  from  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  to  the  Caspian 
Sea ;  from  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube  to  the  Euphrates 
and  Tigris  ;  from  the  forests  of  Sarmatia  to  the  deserts 


72  Grandeur  and  G-lory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  II. 

of  Africa.    The  empire  extended  three  thousand  miles  from 
Extent  of       eas^    *°  west?  and  two  thousand  from    north  to 


the  empire.     sout^     jt  stretched  over  thirty-five  degrees  of 

latitude,  and  sixty-five  of  longitude,  and  embraced  within 

its  limits  nearly  all  the  seas,  lakes,  and  gulfs  which  com 

merce  explored.     It  contained  1,600,000  square 

Square  miles.  r 

miles,  for  the  most  part  cultivated,  and  populated 
by  peoples  in  various  stages  of  civilization,  some  of 
whom  were  famous  'for  arts  and  wealth,  and  could  boast 
of  heroes  and  cities,  —  of  a  past  history  brilliant  and  im 
pressive.  In  nearly  the  centre  of  this  great  empire  was 
seas  and  tne  Mediterranean  Sea,  which  was  only,  as  it 

were,  an  inland  lake,  upon  whose  shores  the 
great  cities  of  antiquity  had  flourished,  and  towards  which 
the  tide  of  Assyrian  and  Persian  conquests  had  rolled  and 
then  retreated  forever.  The  great  rivers  —  the  Nile,  the 
Po,  and  the  Danube  —  flowed  into  this  basin  and  its  con 
necting  seas,  wafting  the  produce  of  distant  provinces  to 

the  great  central  city  on  the  Tiber.  The  bound- 
Boundaries.  .  to  .  J 

anes  ot  the  empire  were  great  oceans,  deserts, 

and  mountains,  beyond  which  it  was  difficult  to  extend  or 
to  retain  conquests.  On  the  west  was  the  Atlantic  Ocean, 
unknown  and  unexplored  —  that  mysterious  expanse  of 
waters  which  filled  navigators  with  awe  and  dread,  and 
which  was  not  destined  to  be  crossed  until  the  stars  should 
cease  to  be  the  only  guide.  On  the  northwest  was  the 
undefined  region  of  Scandinavia,  into  which  the 

Scandinavia. 

Roman  arms  never  penetrated,  peopled  by  those 
barbarians  who  were  to  be  the  future  conquerors  of  Rome, 
and  the  creators  of  a  new  and  more  glorious  civilization,  — 
those  Germanic  tribes  which,  under  different  names,  had 
substantially  the  same  manners,  customs,  and  language, 
—  a  race  more  unconquerable  and  heroic  than  the  Ro 
mans  themselves,  the  future  lords  of  mediaeval  Europe,  the 
ancestors  of  the  English,  the  French,  the  Spaniards,  and 
the  Germans.  On  the  northwest  were  the  Sarmatians 


CHAP.  II.]  The  Provinces  of  the  Empire.  73 

and  Scythians  —  Sclavonic    tribes,  able    to  conquer,    but 
not  to  reconstruct;    savages    repulsive  and  hid-  garmatia 
eous    even    to    the  Goths    themselves.     On    the 
east  lay  the  Parthian  empire,  separated  from  Roman  ter 
ritories    by    the    Euphrates,    the    Tigris,    and  the    Arme 
nian  mountains.     The  Caucasian  range  between  Mountainfl 
the   Euxine  and  the  Caspian  seas  presented  an 
insuperable   barrier,  as  did  the    deserts  of  Arabia  to  the 
Roman  legions.     The  Atlas,  the  African  desert,  and  the 
cataracts    of  the    Nile   formed    the    southern    boundaries. 
The  vulnerable  part  of  the  empire  lay  between  the  Dan 
ube  and  Rhine,  from  which  issued,  in  successive  waves, 
the    Germanic   foes    of    Rome.      To    protect    the    empire 
against  their  incursions,  the   Emperor  Probus  constructed 
a  wall,  which,  however,  proved  but  a  feeble  defense. 

This  immense  empire  was  divided  into  thirty-six  prov 
inces,  exclusive  of  Italy,  each  of  which  was  gov-  proyince8 
erned  by  a  proconsul.  The  most  important  of 
these  were  Spain,  Gaul,  Sicily,  Achaia,  Asia  Minor, 
Syria,  and  Egypt.  Gaul  was  more  extensive  than  mod 
ern  France.  Achaia  included  Greece  and  the  Ionian 
Islands.  The  empire  embraced  the  modern  states  of 
England,  France,  Spain,  Holland,  Belgium,  Switzerland, 
Bavaria,  Austria,  Styria,  the  Tyrol,  Hungary,  Egypt, 
Morocco,  Algiers,  and  the  empire  of  Turkey  both  in  Eu 
rope  and  Asia.  It  took  the  Romans  nearly  five  hundred 
years  to  subdue  the  various  states  of  Italy,  the  complete 
subiuo-ation  of  which  took  place  with  the  fall  of  Taren- 

JO  m 

turn,  a  Grecian  city,  which  introduced  Grecian  ^uits  of 
arts  and  literature.    Sicily,  the  granary  of  Rome,   conquests 
was  the  next  conquest,  the  fruit  of  the  first  Punic  War. 
The  second  Punic  War  added  to  the  empire  Sardinia,  Cor 
sica,  and  the  two  Spanish  provinces  of  Baetica  and  Tarra- 
conensis  —  about  two  thirds  of  the  peninsula  —  fertile  in 
the  productions  of  the   earth,  and  enriched   by  mines  of 
silver  and  gold,  and  peopled  by  Iberians  and  Celts.     The 


74  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  II 

rich  province  of  Illyricum  was  added  to  the  empire  about 
one  hundred  and  eighty  years  before  Christ.  Before  the 
battle  of  Actium,  the  empire  extended  over  Achaia,  Asia 
Minor,  Macedonia,  Narbonensic  Gaul,  Cyrenaica,  Crete, 
Cilicia,  Cyprus,  Bithynia,  Syria,  Aquitania,  Belgic  and 
Celtic  Gaul.  Augustus  added  Egypt,  Lusitania,  Numidia, 
Galatia,  the  Maritime  Alps,  Noricum,  Vindelicia,  Rhaetia, 
Pannonia,  and  Moesia.  Tiberius  increased  the  empire  by 
the  addition  of  Cappadocia.  Claudius  incorporated  the 
two  Mauritania^  Lycia,  Judaea,  Thrace,  and  Britain. 
Nero  added  Pontus.  These  various  and  extensive  coun 
tries  had  every  variety  of  climate  and  productions,  and 
boasted  of  celebrated  cities.  They  composed  most  of  the 
vastnessof  provinces  known  to  the  ancients  west  of  the  Eu- 
P  '  1(  phrates,  and  together  formed  an  empire  in  com 


parison  with  which  the  Assyrian  and  Egyptian  monarchies, 
and  even  the  Grecian  conquests,  were  vastly  inferior. 
The  Saracenic  conquests  in  the  Middle  Ages  were  not  to 
be  compared  with  these,  and  the  great  empires  of  Charle 
magne  and  Napoleon  could  be  included  in  less  than  half 
the  limits.  What  a  proud  position  it  was  to  be  a  Roman 
emperor,  whose  will  was  the  law  over  the  whole  civilized 
Empire  world  !  Well  may  the  Roman  empire  be  called 
universal.  universal,  since  it  controlled  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth  known  to  the  Greeks.  It  was  the  vastest  cen 
tralization  of  power  which  this  world  has  seen,  or  prob 
ably  will  ever  see,  extending  nearly  over  the  whole  of 
Europe,  and  the  finest  parts  of  Asia  and  Africa.  We  are 
amazed  that  a  single  city  of  Italy  could  thus  occupy  with 
her  armies  and  reign  supremely  over  so  many  diverse 
countries  and  nations,  speaking  different  languages,  and 
having  different  religions  and  customs.  And  when  we 
contemplate  this  great  fact,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  it  was 
a  providential  event,  designed  for  some  grand  benefit  to 
the  human  race.  That  benefit  was  the  preparation  for 
the  reception  of  a  new  and  universal  religion.  No  system 


CHAP.  II.]  Italy.  75 

of  "  balance  of  power,"  no  political  or  military  combina 
tions,  no  hostilities  could  prevent  the  absorption  of  the 
civilized  world  in  the  empire  of  the  Cassars. 

If  we  more  particularly  examine  this  great  empire,  we 
observe  that  it  was  substantially  composed  of  the  various 
countries  and  kingdoms  which  bordered  on  the  Mediter 
ranean,  and  those  other  seas  with  which  it  was  TheMedit«. 
connected.  Roman  power  was  scarcely  felt  on  eent^onhe 
the  shores  of  the  Baltic,  or  the  eastern  coasts  of  empire 
the  Euxine,  or  on  the  Arabian  and  Persian  gulfs.  The 
central  part  of  the  empire  was  Italy,  the  province  which 
was  first  conquered,  and  most  densely  populated.  It  was 
the  richest  in  art,  in  cities,  in  commerce,  and  in  agricul 
ture. 

Italy  itself  was  no  inconsiderable  state  —  a  beautiful 
peninsula,  extending  six  hundred  and  sixty  geo-  ^^ 
graphical  miles  from  the  foot  of  the  Alps  to  the 
promontory  of  Leucopetra.  Its  greatest  breadth  is  about 
one  hundred  and  thirty  miles.  It  was  always  renowned 
for  beauty  and  fertility.  Its  climate  on  the  south  was  that 
of  Greece,  and  on  the  north  that  of  the  south  of  France. 
The  lofty  range  of  the  Apennines  extended  through  its 
entire  length,  while  the  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  and 
the  Adriatic  tempered  and  varied  its  climate.  Its  natural 
advantages  were  unequaled,  with  a  soil  favorable  to  agri 
culture,  to  the  culture  of  fruits,  and  the  rearing  of  flocks. 
Its  magnificent  forests  furnished  timber  for  ships ;  its  rich 
pastures  fed  innumerable  sheep,  goats,  cattle,  and  horses  ; 
its  olive  groves  were  nowhere  surpassed  ;  its  mountains 
contained  nearly  every  kind  of  metals  ;  its  coasts  Natural  pro_ 
furnished  a  great  variety  of  fish  ;  while  its  min-  d 
eral  springs  supplied  luxurious  baths.  There  were  no  ex 
tremes  of  heat  and  cold ;  the  sky  was  clear  and  serene ; 
the  face  of  the  country  was  a  garden.  It  was  a  paradise 
to  the  eye  of  Virgil  and  Varro,  the  most  favored  of  all 
the  countries  of  antiquity  in  those  productions  which  sus- 


76  Grandeur  and  G-lory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  n. 

tain  the  life  of  man  or  beast.  The  plains  of  Lombardy 
furnished  maize  and  rice  ;  oranges  grew  to  great  perfec 
tion  on  the  Ligurian  coast ;  aloes  and  cactuses  clothed  the 
rocks  of  the  southern  provinces  ;  while  the  olive  and  the 
grape  abounded  in  every  section.  The  mineral  wealth  of 
Italy  was  extolled  by  the  ancient  writers,  and  the  fisheries 
were  as  remarkable  as  agricultural  products.  The  popu 
lation  numbered  over  four  millions  who  were 
free,  and  could  furnish  seven  hundred  thousand 
foot  and  seventy  thousand  horse  for  the  armies  of  the  re 
public,  if  they  were  all  called  into  requisition.  The  whole 
country  was  dotted  with  beautiful  villas  and  farms,  as  well 
as  villages  and  cities.  It  contained  twelve  hun 
dred  cities  or  large  towns  which  had  municipal 
privileges.  Mediolanum,  now  Milan,  the  chief  city  in  Cis 
alpine  Gaul,  in  the  time  of  Ambrose,  was  adorned  with 
palaces  and  temples  and  baths.  It  was  so  populous  that  it 
lost  it  is  said  at  one  time  three  hundred  thousand  male 
citizens  in  the  inroads  of  the  Goths.  It  was  surrounded 
with  a  double  range  of  walls,  and  the  houses  were  ele 
gantly  built.  It  was  also  celebrated  as  the  seat  of  learn- 
itaiian  mS  anc^  culture.  Verona  had  an  amphitheatre  of 
marble,  whose  remains  are  among  the  most  strik 
ing  monuments  of  antiquity,  capable  of  seating  twenty-two 
thousand  people.  Ravenna,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Padus 
(Po),  built  on  piles,  was  a  great  naval  depot,  and  had  an 
artificial  harbor  capable  of  containing  two  hundred  and 
fifty  ships  of  war,  and  was  the  seat  of  government  after 
the  fall  of  the  empire.  Padua  counted  among  its  inhabi 
tants  five  hundred  Roman  knights,  and  was  able  to  send 
twenty  thousand  men  into  the  field.  Aquileia  was  a  great 
emporium  of  the  trade  in  wine,  oil,  and  salted  provisions. 
Pola  had  a  magnificent  amphitheatre.  Luna,  now  Spezzia, 
was  famous  for  white  marbles,  and  for  cheeses  which  often 
weighed  a  thousand  pounds.  Arutium,  now  Avezzo,  an 
Etrurian  city,  was  celebrated  for  its  potteries,  many  beau- 


CHAP.  II.] 


Italian   Cities.  77 


itful  specimens  of  which  now  ornament  the  galleries   of 
Florence.     Cortona  had  walls  of  massive  thickness,  which 
can  be  traced  to  the  Pelasgians.     Clusium,  the  capital  of 
Porsenna,  had  a  splendid  mausoleum.     Volsinii  boasted  of 
two  thousand  statues.     Veii  had  been  the  rival  of  Rome. 
In  Umbria,  we  may  mention  Sarsina,  the  birthplace  of  Plau- 
tus  ;  Mevania,  the  birthplace  of  Propertius  ;  and  Memorabie 
Sentinum,  famous  for  the  self-devotion  of  Decius.  c 
In  Picenum  were  Ancona,  celebrated  for  its  purple  dye  ; 
and  Picenum,  surrounded  by  walls  and  inaccessible  heights, 
memorable  for  a   siege  against  Pompey.     Of  the  Sabine 
cities  were  Antemnse,  more  ancient  than  Rome  ;  N omen- 
turn,  famous  for  wine ;    Regillum,  the    birthplace  of  Ap- 
pius  Claudius,  the  founder  of  the  great  Claudian  family  ; 
Reate,    famous   for  asses,  which   sometimes   brought   the 
enormous  price   of  60,000  sesterces,   about  $2320  ;    Cu- 
tilise,  celebrated  for  its  mineral  waters  ;  and  Alba,  in  which 
captives  of  rank  were  secluded.     In  Latium  were  Ostia, 
the  seaport  of  Rome ;  Laurentum,  the  capital  of  Latinus  ; 
Lavinium,  fabled  to  have  been  founded  by  JEneas ;  Lanu- 
vium,  the  birthplace  of  Roscius  and  the  Antonines  ;  Alba 
Longa,  founded  four  hundred  years  before  Rome  ;   Tus- 
culum,  where  Cicero  had  his  villa  ;  Tibur,  whose  temple 
was  famous  through  Italy  ;  Praeneste,  now  Palestrio,  re 
markable  for  its  citadel  and  its  temple  of  Fortune  ;  An- 
tiurn,  to   which  Coriolanus  retired  after  his  banishment, 
a  favorite  residence   of  Augustus,  and   the  birthplace  of 
Nero,  celebrated  also  for  a  magnificent  temple,  amid  whose 
ruins  was  found  the  Apollo  Belvidere  ;  Forum  Appii,  men 
tioned  by  St.  Paul,  from  which  travelers  on  the  Appian 
Way  embarked  on  a  canal ;   Arpinum,  the  birthplace  of 
Cicero  ;    Aquium,  where   Juvenal    and   Thomas   Aquinas 
were  born,  famous  for  a  purple  dye ;  Formias,  a  favorite 
residence  of  Cicero.     In  Campania  were  Cumae,  the  abode 
of  the  Sibyl ;  Misenum,  a  great  naval  station  ;  Baise,  cel 
ebrated  for  its  spas  and  villas ;  Puteoli,  famous  for  sulphur 


78  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Umpire.     [CHAP.  n. 

springs  ;  Neapolis,  the  abode  of  literary  idlers  ;  Herculane- 
um  and  Pompeii,  destroyed  by  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius  ; 
Capua,  the  capital  of  Campania,  and  inferior  to  Rome 
alone ;  and  Salernum,  a  great  military  stronghold.  In 
Samnium  were  Bovianum,  a  very  opulent  city;  Beneven- 
tum,  and  Sepinum.  In  Apulia  were  Sarinum  ;  Venusia, 
the  birthplace  of  Horace ;  Cannae,  memorable  for  the 
great  victory  of  Hannibal  ;  Brundusium,  a  city  of  great 
antiquity  on  the  Adriatic,  and  one  of  the  great  naval  sta 
tions  of  the  Romans  ;  and  Tarentum,  the  rival  of  Brun 
dusium,  a  great  military  stronghold.  In  Lucania  were 
Metapontum,  at  one  time  the  residence  of  Pythagoras; 
Heraclea,  the  seat  of  a  general  council ;  Sybaris,  which 
once  was  the  mistress  ot  twenty-five  dependent  cities,  fifty 
stadia  in  circumference,  and  capable  of  sending  an  army 
of  three  hundred  thousand  l  men  into  the  field,  —  a  city  so 
prosperous  and  luxurious  that  the  very  name  of  Sybarite 
was  synonymous  with  voluptuousness. 

Such  were  among  the  principal  cities  of  Italy.     More 

than  two  hundred  and  fifty  towns  or  cities  are  historical, 

and  were  famous  for  the   residence  of  great   men,  or  for 

wines,  wool,  dyes,  and  various  articles  of   luxury.     The 

ruins  of  Pompeii  prove  it  to  have  been  a  citv  of 

Pompeii.  .  __.. 

great  luxury  and  elegance.  Ihe  excavations, 
which  have  brought  to  light  the  wonders  of  this  buried 
city,  attest  a  very  high  material  civilization  ;  yet  it  was 
only  a  second-rate  provincial  town,  of  which  not  much  is 
commemorated  in  history.  It  was  simply  a  resort  for 
Roman  nobles  who  had  villas  in  its  neighborhood.  It  was 
surrounded  with  a  wall,  and  was  built  with  great  regular 
ity.  Its  streets  were  paved,  and  it  had  its  forum,  its  am 
phitheatre,  its  theatre,  its  temples,  its  basilicas,  its  baths, 
its  arches,  and  its  monuments.  The  basilica  was  two  hun 
dred  and  twenty  feet  in  length  by  eighty  feet  in  width,  the 
roof  of  which  was  supported  by  twenty-eight  Ionic  col- 

1  Anthon,  Geog.  Diet. 


CHAP,  ii.]  Sicily  and  Africa.  79 

umns.  The  temple  of  Venus  was  profusely  ornamented 
with  paintings.  One  of  the  theatres  was  built  of  marble, 
and  was  capable  of  seating  five  thousand  spectators,  and 
the  amphitheatre  would  seat  ten  thousand. 

But  Italy,  so  grand  in  cities,  so  varied  in  architectural 
wonders,  so  fertile  in  soil,  so  salubrious  in  climate,  so  rich 
in  minerals,  so  prolific  in  fruits  and  vegetables  and  canals, 
was  only  a  small  part  of  the  empire  of  the  Caesars.  The 
Punic  wars,  undertaken  soon  after  the  expulsion  of  Pyrrhus, 
resulted  in  the  acquisition  of  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and  Sicilyand 
Africa,  from  which  the  Romans  were  supplied  s 
with  inexhaustible  quantities  of  grain,  and  in  the  creation 
of  a  great  naval  power.  Sicily,  the  largest  island  of  the 
Mediterranean,  was  not  inferior  to  Italy  in  any  kind  of 
produce.  It  was,  it  was  supposed,  the  native  Richness  Of 
country  of  wheat.  Its  honey,  its  saffron,  its  s 
sheep,  its  horses,  were  all  equally  celebrated.  The  island, 
intersected  by  numerous  streamy  and  beautiful  valleys, 
was  admirably  adapted  for  the  growth  of  the  vine  and 
olive.  Its  colonies,  founded  by  Phoenicians  and  Greeks, 
cultivated  all  the  arts  of  civilization.  Long  before  the 
Roman  conquest,  its  cities  were  famous  for  learning  and 
art.  Syracuse,  a  Corinthian  colony,  as  old  as  o  ^^ 
Rome,  had  a  fortress  a  mile  in  length  and  half  a 
mile  in  breadth  ;  a  temple  of  Diana  whose  doors  were  cel 
ebrated  throughout  the  Grecian  world,  and  a  theatre  which 
could  accommodate  twenty-four  thousand  people.  No 
city  in  Greece,  except  Athens,  can  produce  structures 
which  vie  with  those  of  which  the  remains  are  still  visible 
at  Agrigentum,  Selinus,  and  Segesta. 

Africa  was  one  of  the  great  provinces  of  the  empire. 
It  virtually  embraced  the  Carthaginian  empire,  and  was 
settled  chiefly  by  the  Phoenicians.  Its  capital,  Carthage, 
so  long  the  rival  of  Rome,  was  probably  the  ^ 

greatest   maritime    mart   of    antiquity,    next   to 
Alexandria.     Though  it  had  been  completely  destroyed, 


80  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  II. 

yet  it  became  under  the  emperors  no  inconsiderable  city, 
and  was  the  capital  of  a  belt  of  territory  extending  one 
hundred  and  sixty  miles,  from  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  to 
the  bottom  of  the  great  Syrtis,  unrivaled  for  fertility.  Its 
population  once  numbered  seven  hundred  thousand  inhab 
itants,  and  ruled  over  three  hundred  dependent  cities,  and 
could  boast  of  a  navy  carrying  one  hundred  and  fifty  thou 
sand  men. 

Greece,  included  under  the  province  called  Achaia,  was 
the  next  great  conquest  of  the  Romans,  the  fruit  of  the 
Macedonian  wars.  Though  small  in  territory,  it  was  the 
The  richness  richest  ofall  the  Roman  acquisitions  in  its  results 
ofGreece.  Qn  civilization.  The  great  peninsula  to  which 
Hellas  belonged  extended  from  the  Euxine  to  the  Adri 
atic  ;  but  Hellas  proper  was  not  more  than  two  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  in  length  and  one  hundred  and  eighty  in 
breadth.  Attica  contained  but  seven  hundred  and  twenty 
square  miles,  yet  how  great  in  associations,  deeds,  and 
heroes  !  When  added  to  the  empire,  it  was  rich  in  every 
element  of  civilization,  in  cities,  in  arts,  in  literature,  in 
commerce,  in  manufactures,  in  domestic  animals,  in  fruits, 
in  cereals.  It  was  a  mountainous  country,  but  had  an 
extensive  sea-coast,  and  a  flourishing  trade  with  all  the 
countries  of  the  world.  Almost  all  the  Grecian  states  had 
easy  access  to  the  sea,  and  each  of  the  great  cities  were 
isolated  from  the  rest  by  lofty  mountains  difficult  to  sur 
mount.  But  the  Roman  arms  and  the  Roman  laws  pene 
trated  to  the  most  inaccessible  retreats. 

In  her  political  degradation,  Greece  still  was  the  most 
Hermonu-  interesting  country  on  the  globe.  Every  city  had 
Srts^nd0*1  a  history  ;  every  monument  betokened  a  triumph 
schools.  Qf  |luman  genius.  On  her  classic  soil  the  great 
miracles  of  civilization  had  Ix-en  wrought —  the  immortal 
teacher  of  all  the  nations  in  art,  in  literature,  in  philosophy, 
in  war  itself.  Every  cultivated  Roman  traveled  in  Greece  ; 
every  great  noble  sent  his  sons  to  be  educated  in  her  schools  ; 


CHAP.  IT.]  Athens.  81 

every  great  general  sent  to  the  banks  of  the  Tiber  some 
memento  of  her  former  greatness,  some  wonder  of  artistic 
skill.  The  wonders  of  Rome  herself  were  but  spoliations 
of  this  glorious  land. 

First  in  interest  and  glory  was  Athens,  which  was  never 
more  splendid  than  in  the  time  of  the  Antonines.  Theglory0f 
The  great  works  of  the  age  of  Pericles  still  re-  Athens- 
tained  their  original  beauty  and  freshness  ;  and  the  city 
of  Minerva  still  remained  the  centre  of  all  that  was  ele 
gant  or  learned  of  the  ancient  civilization,  and  was  held 
everywhere  in  the  profoundest  veneration.  There  still 
flourished  the  various  schools  of  philosophy,  to  which 
young  men  from  all  parts  of  the  empire  resorted  to  be 
educated  —  the  Oxford  and  the  Edinburgh,  the  Berlin 
and  Paris  of  the  ancient  world.  In  spite  of  successive 
conquests,  there  still  towered  upon  the  Acropolis  the  tem 
ple  of  Minerva,  that  famous  Parthenon  whose 
architectural  wonders  have  never  been  even 
equaled,  built  of  Pentelic  marble,  and  adorned  with 
the  finest  sculptures  of  Pheidias — a  Doric  temple,  whose 
severe  simplicity  and  matchless  beauty  have  been  the 
wonder  of  all  ages  —  often  imitated,  never  equaled,  ma 
jestic  even  in  its  ruins.  Side  by  side,  on  that  lofty  for 
tification  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  on  its  western  slope, 
was  the  Propylaea,  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  ancient 
art,  also  of  Pentelic  marble,  costing  2000  talents,  or 
$23,000,000,*  when  gold  was  worth  more  than  twenty 
times  what  it  is  now.  Then  there  was  the  Erechtheum, 
the  temple  of  Athena  Polias,  the  most  revered  of  all  the 
sanctuaries  of  Athens,  with  its  three  Ionic  porticos,  and 
its  frieze  of  black  marble,  with  its  olive  statue  of  the 
goddess,  and  its  sacred  inclosures.  The  great  temple  of 
Zeus  Olympius,  commenced  by  Peisistratus  and  com 
pleted  by  Hadrian,  the  largest  ever  dedicated  to  the  deity 
among  the  Greeks,  was  four  stadia  in  circumference.  It 

1  Smith,  Geog.  Diet. 


82  Grandeur  and  Grlory  of  ike  Umpire.     [CHAP.  II. 

was  surrounded  by  a  peristyle  which  had  ten  columns  in 
front  and  twenty  on  its  sides.  The  peristyle  being  double 
on  the  sides,  and  having  a  triple  range  at  either  end,  be 
sides  three  columns  between  the  antas  at  each  end  of  the 
cella,  consisted  altogether  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  col 
umns.  These  were  sixty  feet  high  and  six  and  a  half  feet 
in  diameter,  the  largest  which  now  remain  of  ancient 
architecture  in  marble,  or  which  still  exist  in  Europe. 
This  vast  temple  was  three  hundred  and  fifty-four  feet  in 
length  and  one  hundred  and  seventy-one  in  breadth,  and 
was  full  of  statues.  The  ruins  of  this  temple,  of  which  six 
teen  columns  are  still  standing,  are  among  the  most  impos 
ing  in  the  world,  and  indicate  a  grandeur  and  majesty  in 
the  city  of  which  we  can  scarcely  conceive.  The  theatre 
of  Bacchus,  the  most  beautiful  in  the  ancient  world,  would 
seat  thirty  thousand  spectators.  I  need  not  mention 
the  various  architectural  monuments  of  this  classic  city, 
each  of  which  was  a  study  —  the  Temple  of  Theseus, 
the  Agora,  the  Odeum,  the  Areopagus,  the  Gymnasium 
of  Hadrian,  the  Lyceum,  and  other  buildings  of  singular 
beauty,  built  mostly  of  marble,  and  adorned  with  paint 
ings  and  statues.  What  work  of  genius  in  the  whole 
world  more  interesting  than  the  ivory  and  gold  statue  of 
Athena  in  the  Parthenon,  the  masterpiece  of  Pheidias, 
forty  feet  high,  the  gold  of  which  weighed  forty  talents,  — 
a  model  for  all  succeeding  sculptors,  and  to  see  which 
travelers  came  from  all  parts  of  Greece  ?  Athens,  a  city 
of  five  hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  was  filled  with  won 
ders  of  art,  which  time  has  not  yet  fully  destroyed. 

Corinth  was  another  grand  centre  of  Grecian  civilization, 
richer  and  more  luxurious  than  Athens.      When 
taken  by  the  Romans  she  possessed  the  most  valua 
ble  pictures  in  Greece.     Among  them  was  one  of  Dionysus 
by  Aristides  for  which  Attains  offered  600,000  sesterces. 
Rich  commercial  cities  have  ever  been  patrons  of»  the  fine 
arts.    These  they  can  appreciate  better  than  poetry  or  phi- 


CHAP,  ii.]  Corinth.  —  Cities  of  Greece. 

losophy.  The  Corinthians  invented  the  most  elaborate 
style  of  architecture  known  to  antiquity,  and  TheWonders 
which  was  generally  adopted  at  Rome.  They  ofCorinth- 
were  also  patrons  of  statuary,  especially  of  works  in  bronze, 
for  which  the  city  was  celebrated.  The  Corinthian  vessels 
of  terra  cotta  were  the  finest  in  Greece.  All  articles  of  ele 
gant  luxury  were  manufactured  here,  especially  elaborate 
tables,  chests,  and  sideboards.  If  there  had  been  a  great 
exhibition  in  Rome,  the  works  of  the  Corinthians  would 
have  been  the  most  admired,  and  would  have  suited  the 
taste  of  the  luxurious  senators,  among  whom  literature 
and  the  higher  developments  of  art  were  unappreciated. 
There  was  no  literature  in  Corinth  after  Penander,  and 
among  the  illustrious  writers  of  Greece  not  a  single  Co 
rinthian  appeared.  Nor  did  it  ever  produce  an  orator. 
What  could  be  expected  of  a  city  whose  patron  goddess 
was  Aphrodite  !  But  Lais  was  honored  in  the  city,  and 
rich  merchants  frequented  her  house.  The  city  was  most 
famous  for  courtesans,  and  female  slaves,  and  extravagant 
luxury.  It  was  like  Antioch  and  Tyre  and 
Carthage.  Corinth  was  probably  the  richest  city 
in  Greece,  and  one  of  the  largest.  It  had,  it  is  said,  four 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  slaves.  Its  streets,  three  miles 
in  length,  were  adorned  with  costly  edifices.  Its  fortress 
was  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  eighty-six  feet  above 
the  sea  and  very  strong. 

Sparta,  of  historic  fame,  was  not  magnificent  except  in 
public   buildings.     It  had  a  famous  portico,  the 
columns  of  which,  of  white  marble,  represented 
the  illustrious  persons  among  the  vanquished  Medes. 

Olympia,  the  holy  city,  was  celebrated  for  its  temple  and 
its  consecrated  garden,  where  stood  some  of  the 
great  masterpieces  of  ancient  art,  among  them 
the  famous  statue  of  Jupiter,  the  work  of  Pheidias,  —  an 
impersonation  of  majesty  and  power,  —  a  work  which  fur 
nished  models  from  which  Michael  Angelo  drew  his  inspi 
ration. 


84  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  n. 

Delphi,    another    consecrated    city,  was    enriched  with 

the  contributions  of  all  Greece,  and  was  the  seat 

of  the  Dorian  religion.    So  rich  were  the  shrines 

of  its  oracle  that  Nero  carried  away  from  it  five  hundred 

statues  of  bronze  at  one  time. 

Such  was  Greece,  every  city  of  which  was  famous  for 
art,  or  literature,  or  commerce,  or  manufacture,  or  for 
deeds  which  live  in  history  It  had  established  a  great 
empire  in  the  East,  but  fell,  like  all  other  conquering  na 
tions,  from  the  luxury  which  conquest  engendered.  It  was 
no  longer  able  to  protect  itself.  Its  phalanx,  which  resisted 
the  shock  of  the  Persian  hosts,  yielded  to  the  all -conquer 
ing  legion.  When  ^Emilius  Paulus  marched  up  the  Via 
Greece  en-  Sacra  witli  the  spoils  of  the  Macedonian  kingdom 
nches  Rome.  m  j.^s  gran(j  anc[  brilliant  triumph,  he  was  pre 
ceded  by  two  hundred  and  fifty  wagons  containing  pict 
ures  and  statues,  and  three  thousand  men,  each  carrying  a 
vase  of  silver  coin,  and  four  hundred  more  bearing  crowns 
of  gold.  Yet  this  was  but  the  commencement  of  the  plun 
der  of  Greece. 

And  not  merely  Greece  herself,  but  the  islands  which 
islands  coio-  she  had  colonized  formed  no  slight  addition  to  the 
§nLks?r  glories  of  the  empire.  Rhodes  was  the  seat  of  a 
famous  school  for  sculpture  and  painting,  from  which  is 
sued  the  Laocoon  and  the  Farnese  Bull.  It  contained  three 
thousand  statues  and  one  hundred  and  six  colossi,  among 
them  the  famous  statue  of  the  sun,  one  hundred  and  five 
feet  high,  one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the  world,  contain 
ing  3000  talents— more  than  $3,000,000.  Its  school  of 
rhetoric  was  so  celebrated  that  Cicero  resorted  to  it  to 
perfect  himself  in  oratory. 

If  we  pass  from  Greece  to  Asia  Minor  and  Syria,  with 

their  dependent  provinces,  all  of  which  were  added  to  the 

empire  by  the  victories  of  Sulla  and  Pompey,  we  are  still 

more  impressed  with  the  extent  of  the  Roman 

Aflia  Minor.  f.  ,      ,  . 

rule.     Asia  Minor,  a  vast  peninsula  between  the 


CHAP.  II.]  Asia  Minor.  85 

Mediterranean,  JEgean,  and  Euxine  seas,  included  sev 
eral  of  the  old  monarchies  of  the  world.  It  extended  from 
Ilium  on  the  west  to  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  from  the 
northern  parts  of  Bithynia  and  Pontus  to  Syria 

,.,.,.    .          .  ,        .,         n  Its  extent. 

and  Cilicia,  nine  hundred  miles  from  east  to  west, 
and  nearly  three  hundred  from  north  to  south.  It  was  the 
scene  of  some  of  the  grandest  conquests  of  the  oriental 
world,"  Babylonian,  Persian,  and  Grecian.  Syria  em 
braced  all  countries  from  the  eastern  coasts  of  the  Mediter 
ranean  to  the  Arabian  deserts.  No  conquests  of  the  Ro 
mans  were  attended  with  more  eclat  than  the  subjection  of 
these  wealthy  and  populous  sections  of  the  oriental  world ; 
and  they  introduced  a  boundless  wealth  and  luxury  into 
Italy.  But  in  spite  of  the  sack  of  cities  and  the  devasta 
tions  of  armies,  the  old  monarchy  of  the  Seleucidse  remained 
rich  and  grand.  Both  Syria  and  Asia  Minor  could  boast 
of  large  and  flourishing  cities,  as  well  as  every 
kind  of  luxury  and  art.  Antioch  was  the  third 
city  in  the  empire,  the  capital  of  the  Greek  kings  of  Syria, 
and  like  Alexandria  a  monument  of  the  Macedonian  age. 
It  was  built  on  a  regular  and  magnificent  plan,  and  abounded 
in  temples  and  monuments.  Its  most  striking  feature  was 
a  street  four  miles  in  length,  perfectly  level,  with  double 
colonnades  through  its  whole  length,  built  by  Antiochus 
Epiphanes.  In  magnitude  the  city  was  not  much 

.    •     .  r»      •  i  i  i  i       Antioch. 

interior  to  raris  at  the  present  day,  and  covered 
more  land  than  Rome.  It  had  its  baths,  its  theatres  and 
amphitheatres,  its  fora,  its  museums,  its  aqueducts,  its  tem 
ples,  and  its  palaces.  It  was  the  most  luxurious  of  all  the 
cities  of  the  East,  and  had  a  population  of  three  hundred 
thousand  who  were  free.  In  the  latter  clays  of  the  empire 
it  was  famous  as  the  scene  of  the  labors  of  Chrysostom. 

Ephesus,  one  of  the  twelve  of  the  Ionian  cities  in  Asia, 
was  the  glory  of  Lvdia,  — a  sacred  city  of  which 

.  to,       J,  _  .     *  "  Ephesus. 

the  temple  ot  Diana  was  the  greatest  ornament. 

This  famous  temple  was  four  times  as  large  as  the  Parthe- 


86  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Empire.      [CHAP.  II. 

non,  and  covered  as  much  ground  as  Cologne  Cathedral, 
and  was  two  hundred  and  twenty  years  in  building.  It 
had  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  columns  sixty  feet  high, 
of  which  thirty-six  were  carved,  each  contributed  by  a 
king  —  the  largest  of  all  the  Grecian  temples,  and  prob 
ably  the  most  splendid.  It  was  a  city  of  great  trade  and 
wealth.  Its  theatre  was  the  largest  in  the  world,  six  hun 
dred  and  sixty  feet  in  diameter,1  and  capable  of  holding 
sixty  thousand  spectators.  Ephesus  gave  birth  to  Apelles 
the  painter,  and  was  the  metropolis  of  five  hundred  cities. 
Jerusalem,  so  dear  to  Christians  as  the  most  sacred  spot 
on  earth,  inclosed  by  lofty  walls  and  towers,  not 
so  beautiful  or  populous  as  in  the  days  of  Solo 
mon  and  David,  was,  before  its  destruction  by  Titus,  one 
of  the  finest  cities  of  the  East.  Its  royal  palace,  sur 
rounded  by  a  wall  thirty  cubits  high,  with  decorated 
towers  at  equal  intervals,  contained  enormous  banqueting 
halls  and  chambers  most  profusely  ornamented  ;  and  this 
palace,  magnificent  beyond  description,  was  connected 
with  porticos  and  gardens  filled  with  statues  and  reser 
voirs  of  water.  It  occupied  a  larger  space  than  the  pres 
ent  fortress,  from  the  western  edge  of  Mount  Zion  to  the 
present  garden  of  the  Armenian  Convent.  The 

The  Temple.      '  ' 

lemple,  so  famous,  was  small  compared  with 
the  great  wonders  of  Grecian  architecture,  being  only 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  by  seventy ;  but  its  front 
was  covered  with  plates  of  gold,  and  some  of  the  stones 
of  which  it  was  composed  were  more  than  sixty  feet  in 
length  and  nine  in  width.  Its  magnificence  consisted  in 
its  decorations  and  the  vast  quantity  of  gold  and  precious 
woods  used  in  its  varied  ornaments,  and  vessels  of  gold,  so 
as  to  make  it  one  of  the  most  costly  edifices  ever  erected 
TheAcropo-  ^°  *ne  worship  of  God.  The  Acropolis,  which 

was  the  fortress  of  the  Temple,  combined  the 
strength  of  a  castle  with  the  magnificence  of  a  palace,  and 

l  Muller,  Anc.  Art. 


CHAP,  ii.]  Cities  of  Asia  Minor.  87 

was  like  a  city  in  extent,  towering  seventy  cubits  above  the 
elevated  rock  upon  which  it  was  built.  So  strongly  forti 
fied  was  Jerusalem,  even  in  its  latter  days,  that  it  took  Titus 
five  months,  with  an  army  of  one  hundred  thousand  men, 
to  subdue  it ;  one  of  the  most  memorable  sieges  on  record. 
It  probably  would  have  held  out  against  the  whole  power 
of  Rome,  had  not  famine  done  more  than  battering  rams. 

Many  other  interesting  cities  might  be  mentioned  both 
in  Syria  and  Asia  Minor,  which  were  centres  of  trade,  or 
seats  of  philosophy,  or  homes  of  art.  Tarsus  in  Cilicia 
was  a  great  mercantile  city,  to  which  strangers  from  all 
parts  resorted.  Damascus,  the  oldest  citv  in  the  Damascus 

.  .        .      and  other 

world,  and  the  old  capital  of  byria,  was  both  cities. 
beautiful  and  rich.  Laodicea  was  famous  for  tapestries, 
Hierapolis  for  its  iron  wares,  Cybara  for  its  dyes,  Sardis 
for  its  wines,  Smyrna  for  its  beautiful  monuments,  Delos 
for  its  slave-trade,  Gyrene  for  its  horses,  Paphos  for  its  tem 
ple  of  Venus,  in  which  were  a  hundred  altars.  Seleucia, 
on  the  Tigris,  had  a  population  of  four  hundred  thousand. 
Csesarea,  founded  by  Herod  the  Great,  and  the  principal 
seat  of  government  to  the  Roman  prefects,  had  a  harbor 
equal  in  size  to  the  renowned  Piraeus,  and  was  secured 
against  the  southwest  winds  by  a  mole  of  such  massive 
construction  that  the  blocks  of  stone,  sunk  under  the 
water,  were  fifty  feet  in  length  and  eighteen  in  width,  and 
nine  in  thickness.1  The  city  itself  was  constructed  of  pol 
ished  stone,  with  an  agora,  a  theatre,  a  circus,  a  prajtorium, 
and  a  temple  to  Caesar.  Tyre,  which  had  resisted  for 
seven  months  the  armies  of  Alexander,  remained  to  the 
fall  of  the  empire  a  great  emporium  of  trade.  It  monop 
olized  the  manufacture  of  imperial  purple.  Sidon  was 
equally  celebrated  for  its  glass  and  embroidered  robes. 
The  Sidonians  cast  glass  mirrors,  and  imitated  precious 
stones.  But  the  glory  of  both  Tyre  and  Sidon  was  in 
ships,  which  visited  ail  the  coasts  of  the  Mediterranean, 
and  even  penetrated  to  Britain  and  India. 

i  Josephus,  Ant.,  xv. 


88  Grrandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  II. 

But  greater  than  Tyre,  or  Antioch,  or  any  eastern 
city,  was  Alexandria,  the  capital  of  Egypt,  which  was  one 
of  the  last  provinces  added  to  the  empire.  Egypt  alone 
was  a  mighty  monarchy  —  the  oldest  which  his 
tory  commemorates,  august  in  records  and  mem 
ories.  What  pride,  what  pomp,  what  glory  are  associated 
with  the  land  of  the  Pharaohs,  with  its  mighty  river  reach 
ing  to  the  centre  of  a  great  continent,  flowing  thousands 
of  miles  to  the  sea,  irrigating  and  enriching  the  most  fer 
tile  valley  of  the  world  !  What  noble  and  populous  cities 
arose  upon  its  banks  three  thousand  years  before  Roman 
power  was  felt !  What  enduring  monuments  remain  of  a 
its  ancient  very  ancient  yet  extinct  civilization  !  What  suc- 
grandeur.  cessive  races  of  conquerors  have  triumphed  in  the 
granite  palaces  of  Thebes  and  Memphis !  Old,  sacred, 
rich,  populous,  and  learned,  Egypt  becomes  a  province  of 
the  Roman  empire.  The  sceptre  of  three  hundred  kings 
passes  from  Cleopatra,  the  last  of  the  Ptolemies,  to  Augus 
tus  Cagsar,  the  conqueror  at  Actium  ;  and  six  millions  of 
different  races,  once  the  most  civilized  on  the  earth,  are 
amalgamated  with  the  other  races  and  peoples  which  com 
pose  the  universal  monarchy.  At  one  time  the  military 
force  of  Egypt  is  said  to  have  amounted  to  seven  hundred 
thousand  men,  in  the  period  of  its  greatest  prosperity.  The 
annual  revenues  of  this  state  under  the  Ptolemies  amounted 
Glories  of  to  about  $17,000,000  in  gold  and  silver,  beside 
Egypt.  j.jie  projuce  of  the  earth.  A  single  feast  cost  Phil- 
adelphus  more  than  half  a  million  of  pounds  sterling,  and 
he  had  accumulated  treasures  to  the  amount  of  740,000 
talents,  or  about  $860,000,000.*  What  European  monarch 
ever  possessed  such  a  sum  ?  The  kings  of  Egypt  were 
richer  in  the  gold  and  silver  they  could  command  than  Louis 
XIV.,  in  the  proudest  hour  of  his  life.  What  monarchs 
ever  reigned  with  more  absolute  power  than  the 

Thebes. 

kings  of  this  ancient  seat  of  learning  and  art !    The 

1  Napoleon,  Life  of  Ccesar. 


CHAP,  ii.]  Alexandria.  89 

foundation  of  Thebes  goes  back  to  the  mythical  period  of 
Egyptian  history,  and  it  covered  as  much  ground  as  Rome 
or  Paris,  equally  the  centre  of  religion,  of  trade,  of  man 
ufactures,  and  of  government,  —  the  sacerdotal  capital  of 
all  who  worshiped  Ammon  from  Pelusium  to  Axume, 
from  the  Red  Sea  to  the  Oases  of  Libya.  The  palaces  of 
Thebes,  though  ruins  two  thousand  years  ago  as  they  are 
ruins  now,  were  the  largest  and  probably  the  most  mag 
nificent  ever  erected  by  the  hand  of  man.  What  must  be 
thought  of  a  palace  whose  central  hall  was  eighty  feet  in 
height,  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  in  length,  and 
one  hundred  and  seventy-nine  in  breadth  ;  the  roof  of 
which  was  supported  by  one  hundred  and  thirty-four  col 
umns,  eleven  feet  in  diameter  and  seventy-six  feet  in 
height,  with  their  pedestals ;  and  where  the  cornices  of  the 
finest  marble  were  inlaid  with  ivory  moldings  or  sheathed 
with  beaten  gold !  But  I  do  not  now  refer  to  the  glories 
of  Egypt  under  Sesostris  or  Rameses,  but  to  what  they 
were  when  Alexandria  was  the  capital  of  the  country,  — 
what  it  was  under  the  Roman  domination. 

The  ground-plan  of  this  great  city  was  traced  by  Alex 
ander  himself,  but  it  was  not  completed  until  the  reign  of 
Ptolemy  Philadelphus.     It   continued    to   receive    embel 
lishments  from   nearly  every  monarch  of  the  Lagian  line. 
Its  circumference  was  about  fifteen   miles;    the  Extentand 
streets  were  regular,  and  crossed  one  another  at  Jfftxin" 
right  angles,  and    were    wide  enough   to  admit  dria> 
both  carriages  and  foot  passengers.     The  harbor  was  large 
enough  to  admit  the  largest  fleet  ever  constructed  ;  its  walls 
and  gates  were  constructed  with  all  the  skill  and  strength 
known  to  antiquity ;  its  population  numbered  six  hundred 
thousand,  and  all  nations  were  represented  in  its  crowded 
streets.     The  wealth  of  the  city  may  be  inferred  from  the 
fact  that  in  one  year  6250  talents,  or  more  than  86,000,000, 
were  paid  to  the  public  treasury  for  port  dues. 
The  library  was  the  largest  in  the  world,  and  num.- 


90  Grandeur  and  Grlory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  n. 

bered  over  seven  hundred  thousand  volumes,  and  this  was 
connected  with  a  museum,  a  menagerie,  a  botanical  garden, 
and  various  halls  for  lectures,  altogether  forming  the  most 
famous  university  in  the  empire.  The  inhabitants  were 
chiefly  Greek,  and  had  all  their  cultivated  tastes  and  mer 
cantile  thrift.  In  a  commercial  point  of  view  it  was  the 
most  important  in  the  empire,  and  its  ships  whitened  every 
sea.  Alexandria  was  of  remarkable  beauty,  and  was  called 
by  Ammianus  Vertex  omnium  civitatum.  Its  dry  atmos 
phere  preserved  for  centuries  the  sharp  outlines  and  gay 
colors  of  its  buildings,  some  of  which  were  remarkably 
Public  imposing.  The  Mausoleum  of  the  Ptolemies,  the 
buildings.  High  Court  of  Justjcei  t]ie  Stadium,  the  Gym 
nasium,  the  Palaestra,  the  Amphitheatre,  and  the  Tem 
ple  of  the  Caesars,  all  called  out  the  admiration  of  travel 
ers.  The  Emporium  far  surpassed  the  quays  of  the  Tiber. 
But  the  most  imposing  structure  was  the  Exchange,  to 
which,  for  eight  hundred  years,  all  the  nations  sent 
their  representatives.  It  was  commerce  which 
made  Alexandria  so  rich  and  beautiful,  for  which 
it  was  more  distinguished  than  both  Tyre  and  Carthage. 
Unlike  most  commercial  cities,  it  was  intellectual,  and  its 
schools  of  poetry,  mathematics,  medicine,  philosophy,  and 
theology  were  more  renowned  than  even  those  of  Athens 
during  the  third  and  fourth  centuries.  For  wealth,  popu 
lation,  intelligence,  and  art,  it  was  the  second  city  of  the 
world.  It  would  be  a  great  capital  in  these  times. 

Such  were  Egypt,  Syria,  Asia  Minor,  Greece,  and 
Africa,  all  of  which  had  been  great  empires,  but  all  of 
which  were  incorporated  with  the  Roman  in  less  than  two 
hundred  years  after  Italy  succumbed  to  the  fortunate  city 
on  the  Tiber.  But  these  old  and  venerated  monarchies, 
with  their  dependent  states  and  provinces,  though  impos- 
Powerof  the  ing  and  majestic,  did  not  compose  the  vital  part 

em  pire  seat-          /»     i  •  />i/^<  T  i  j  i 

edin  the        of  the  empire  or  the  L/aesars.     It  was  those  new 
provinces.       provinces  which  were  rescued  from    the  barba- 


CHAP.  I L]  Spain. — Its  Provinces.  91 

rians,  chiefly  Celts,  where  the  life  of  the  empire  centred. 
It  was  Spain,  Gaul,  Britain,  and  Illyricum,  countries 
which  now  compose  the  most  powerful  European  mon 
archies,  which  the  more  truly  show  the  strength  of  the 
Roman  world.  And  these  countries  were  added  last,  and 
were  not  fully  incorporated  with  the  empire  until  imperial 
power  had  culminated  in  the  Antonines.  From  a  com 
parative  wilderness,  Spain  and  Gaul  especially  became 
populous  and  flourishing  states,  dotted  with  cities,  and  in 
structed  in  all  the  departments  of  Roman  art  and  science. 
From  these  provinces  the  armies  were  recruited,  the 
schools  were  filled,  and  even  the  great  generals  and  em 
perors  were  furnished.  These  provinces  embraced  nearly 
the  whole  of  modern  Europe. 

Spain  had  been  added  to  the  empire  after  the  destruc 
tion  of  Carthage,  but  only  after  a  bitter  and 
protracted  warfare.  It  was  completed  by  the 
reduction  of  Numantia,  a  city  of  the  Celtiberians  in  the 
valley  of  the  Douro,  and  its  siege  is  more  famous  than 
that  of  Carthage,  having  defied  for  a  long  time  the  whole 
power  of  the  empire,  as  Tyre  did  Alexander,  and  Jerusa 
lem  the  armies  of  Titus.  It  yielded  to  the  genius  of 
Scipio,  the  conqueror  of  Africa,  as  La  Rochelle,  in  later 
times,  fell  before  Richelieu,  but  not  until  famine  had  done 
its  work.  The  civilization  of  Spain  was  rapid  after  the 
fall  of  Numantia,  and  in  the  time  of  the  Antonines  was 
one  of  the  richest  and  most  prized  of  the  Roman  prov 
inces.  It  embraced  the  whole  peninsula,  from  the  Pil 
lars  of  Hercules  to  the  Pyrenees  ;  and  the  warlike  na 
tions  who  composed  it  became  completely  Latinized.  It 
was  divided  into  three  provinces  —  Ba3tica,  Its  prov. 
Lusitania,  and  Tarraconensis  —  all  governed  inces> 
by  praetors,  the  last  of  whom  had  consular  power,  and 
resided  in  Carthago  Nova,  on  the  Mediterranean.  Under 
Constantine,  Spain,  with  its  islands,  was  divided  into 
seven  provinces,  and  stood  out  from  the  rest  of  the  em- 


02  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Umpire.     [CHAP.  n. 

pire  like  a  round  bastion  tower  from  the  walls  of  an  old 
fortified  town.  This  magnificent  possession,  extending 
four  hundred  and  sixty  miles  from  north  to  south,  and  five 
hundred  and  seventy  from  east  to  west,  including,  with 
the  Balearic  Isles,  171,300  square  miles,  with  a  rich  and 
fertile  soil  and  inexhaustible  mineral  resources,  was  worth 
more  to  the  Romans  than  all  the  conquests  of  Pompey 
and  Sulla,  since  it  furnished  men  for  the  armies,  and  ma 
terials  for  a  new  civilization.  It  furnished  corn, 

Productions.  . 

oil,  wine,  fruits,  pasturage,  metals  or  all  kinds, 
and  precious  stones.  Bastica  was  famed  for  its  harvests, 
Lusitania  for  its  flocks,  Tarraconensis  for  its  timber,  and 
the  fields  around  Carthago  Nova  for  materials  of  which 
cordage  was  made.  But  the  great  value  of  the  peninsula 
to  the  eyes  of  the  Romans  was  in  its  rich  mines  of  gold, 
silver,  and  other  metals.  The  bulk  of  the  population  was 
Iberian.  The  Celtic  element  was  the  next  most  prominent, 
its  towns  and  There  were  six  hundred  and  ninety-three  towns 
and  cities  in  which  justice  was  administered. 
New  Carthage,  on  the  Mediterranean,  had  a  magnificent 
harbor,  was  strongly  fortified,  and  was  twenty  stadia  in 
circumference,  was  a  great  emporium  of  trade,  and  was 
in  the  near  vicinity  of  the  richest  silver  mines  of  Spain, 
itscommer-  which  employed  forty  thousand  men.  Gades 
ciaicentres.  (^ew  Cadiz),  a  Phoenician  colony,  on  the  Atlan 
tic  Ocean,  was  another  commercial  centre,  and  numbered 
five  hundred  Equites  among  the  population,  and  was 
immensely  rich.  Corduba,  on  the  Baatis  (Guadalquivir), 
the  capital  of  Baetica,  was  a  populous  city  before  the  Ro 
man  conquest,  and  was  second  only  to  Gades  as  a  com 
mercial  mart.  It  was  the  birthplace  of  Saneca  and 
Lucan. 

Gaul,  which  was  the  first  of  Caesar's  most  brilliant  con 
quests,  and  which  took  him  ten  years  to  accomplish,  was  a 
still  more  extensive  province.  It  was  inhabited  chiefly  by 
Celtic  tribes,  who,  uniting  with  Germanic  nations,  made 


CHAP.  II.]  The   Cities  of  Graul  93 

a  most  obstinate  defense.  When  incorporated  with  the 
empire,  Gaul  became  rapidly  civilized.  It  was  a  splendid 
country,  extending  from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  Rhine,  with 
a  sea-coast  of  more  than  six  hundred  miles,  and  Rjchnesgof 
separated  from  Italy  by  the  Alps,  having  200,-  GauL 
000  square  miles.  Great  rivers,  as  in  Spain,  favored  an 
extensive  commerce  with  the  interior,  and  on  their  banks 
were  populous  and  beautiful  cities.  Its  large  coast  on  both 
the  Mediterranean  and  the  Atlantic  gave  it  a  communica 
tion  with  all  the  world.  It  produced  corn,  oil,  and  wine, 
those  great  staples,  in  great  abundance.  It  had  a  beautiful 
climate,  and  a  healthy  and  hardy  population,  warlike,  cour 
ageous,  and  generous.  Gaul  was  a  populous  country  even 
in  Caesar's  time,  and  possessed  twelve  hundred  popu]ation 
towns  and  cities,  some  of  which  were  of  great  im-  andcltles- 
portance.  Burdigala,  now  Bordeaux,  the  chief  city  of  Aqui- 
tania,  on  the  Garonne,  was  famous  for  its  schools  of  rhetoric 
and  grammar.  Massolia  (Marseilles),  before  the  Punic 
wars  was  a  strong  fortified  city,  and  was  largely  engaged  in 
commerce.  Vienne,  a  city  of  the  Allobroges,  was  inclosed 
with  lofty  walls,  and  had  an  amphitheatre  whose  long  diam 
eter  was  five  hundred  feet,  and  the  aqueducts  supplied  the 
city  with  water.  Lugdunum  (Lyons)  on  the  Rhone,  was 
a  place  of  great  trade,  and  was  filled  with  temples,  theatres, 
palaces,  and  aqueducts.  Nemausus  (Nimes)  had  subject 
to  it  twenty-four  villages,  and  from  the  monuments  which 
remain,  must  have  been  a  city  of  considerable  importance. 
Its  amphitheatre  would  seat  seventeen  thousand  |P^[|^rof 
people ;  and  its  aqueduct  constructed  of  three  "ties, 
successive  tiers  of  arches,  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  feet 
high,  eight  hundred  and  seventy  feet  long,  and  fifty  feet 
wide,  is  still  one  of  the  finest  monuments  of  antiquity, 
built  of  stone  without  cement.  It  is  still  solid  and  strong, 
and  gives  us  a  vivid  conception  of  the  magnificence  of  Ro 
man  masonry.  Narbo  (Narbonne)  was  another  commer 
cial  centre,  adorned  with  public  buildings  which  called 


94  Grandeur  and  Grlory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  n. 

forth  the  admiration  of  ancient  travelers.  The  modern 
cities  of  Treves,  Boulogne,  Rheims,  Chalons,  Cologne, 
Metz,  Dijon,  Sens,  Orleans,  Poictiers,  Clermont,  Rouen, 
Paris,  Basil,  Geneva,  were  all  considerable  places  under  the 
Roman  rule,  and  some  were  of  great  antiquity. 

Illyricum  is  not  famous  in  Roman  history,  but  was  a  very 
considerable  province,  equal  to  the   whole  Aus- 

Illyricum.  .  ... 

trian  empire  in  our  times,  and  was  as  completely 
reclaimed  from  barbarism  as  Gaul  or  Spain.  Both  Jerome 
and  Diocletian  were  born  in  a  little  Dalmatian  town 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  countries  which  bordered  on 
the  Mediterranean  in  all  those  things  which  give  material 
prosperity.  They  were  salubrious  in  climate,  fertile  in  soil, 
cultivated  like  a  garden,  abounding  in  nearly  all  the  fruits, 
vegetables,  and  grains  now  known  to  civilization.  The 
cultivated  beautiful  face  of  nature  was  the  subject  of  uni- 
ture.°  '  versal  panegyric  to  the  fall  of  the  empire.  There 
were  no  destructive  wars.  All  the  various  provinces  were 
controlled  by  the  central  power  which  emanated  from 
Rome.  There  was  scope  for  commerce,  and  all  kinds  of 
manufacturing  skill.  Italy,  Sicily,  and  Egypt  were  espe 
cially  fertile.  The  latter  country  furnished  corn  in  count 
less  quantities  for  the  Roman  market.  Italy  could  boast  of 
Agricultural  n%"  kinds  of  wine,  and  was  covered  with  luxu 
rious  villas  in  which  were  fish-ponds,  preserves 
for  game,  wide  olive  groves  and  vineyards,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  farms  which  produced  milk,  cheese,  honey,  and 
poultry.  Syria  was  so  prosperous  that  its  inhabitants 
divided  their  time  between  the  field,  the  banquet,  and  the 
gymnasium,  and  indulged  in  continual  festivals.  It  was  so 
rich  that  Antiochus  III.  was  able  to  furnish  at  one  time  a 
tribute  of  15,000  talents,  beside  540,000  measures  of  wheat. 
The  luxury  of  Nineveh  and  Babylon  was  revived  in  the 
Phoenician  cities. 

Spain  produced  horses,  mules,  wool,  oil,  figs,  wine,  corn, 
honey,  beer,  flax,  linen,  beside  mines  of  copper,  silver, 


CHAP.  II.]  Productions  and  Roads.  95 

gold,  quicksilver,  tin,  lead,  and  steel.  Gaul  was  so  cul 
tivated  that  there  was  little  waste  land,  and  pro-  Natural  pn>. 
duced  the  same  fruits  and  vegetables  as  at  the  ^Sua 
present  day.  Its  hams  and  sausages  were  much  prc>1 
prized.  Sicily  was  famous  for  wheat,  Sardinia  for  wool, 
Epirus  for  horses,  Macedonia  for  goats,  Thessaly  for  oil, 
Boeotia  for  flax,  Scythia  for  furs,  and  Greece  for  honey. 
Almost  all  the  flowers,  herbs,  and  fruits  that  grow  in  Eu 
ropean  gardens  were  known  to  the  Romans  —  the  apricot, 
the  peach,  the  pomegranate,  the  citron,  the  orange,  the 
quince,  the  apple,  the  pear,  the  plum,  the  cherry,  the  fig, 
the  date,  the  olive.  Martial  speaks  of  pepper,  beans,  pulp, 
lentils,  barley,  beets,  lettuce,  radishes,  cabbage  sprouts, 
leeks,  turnips,  asparagus,  mushrooms,  truffles,  as  well  as 
all  sorts  of  game  and  birds.1  In  no  age  of  the  world  was 
agriculture  more  honored  than  before  the  fall  of  the  em 
pire. 

And  all  these  provinces  were  connected  with  each  other 
and  with  the  capital  by  magnificent  roads,  per 
fectly  straight,  and  paved  with  large  blocks  of 
stone.  They  were  originally  constructed  for  military  pur 
poses,  but  were  used  by  travelers,  and  on  them  posts  were 
regularly  established.  They  crossed  valleys  upon  arches, 
and  penetrated  mountains.  In  Italy,  especially,  they  were 
great  works  of  art,  and  connected  all  the  provinces.  Among 
the  great  roads  which  conveyed  to  Rome  as  a  centre  were 
the  Clodian  and  Cassian  roads  which  passed  through  Etru- 
ria  ;  the  Amerina  and  Flavinia  through  Umbria  ;  the  Via 
Valeria,  which  had  its  terminus  at  Alternum  on  the  Adri 
atic  ;  the  Via  Latina,  which,  passing  through  Latium  and 
Campania,  extended  to  the  southern  extremity  of  Italy; 
the  Via  Appia  also  passed  through  Latium,  Campania,  Lu- 
cania,  lapygia  to  Brundusium,  on  the  Adriatic.  Again, 
from  the  central  terminus  at  Milan,  several  lines  passed 
through  the  gorges  of  the  Alps,  and  connected  Italy  with 

1  Martial,  B.  13. 


96  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Umpire.     [CHAP.  IT. 

Lyons  and  Mayence  on  the  one  side,  and  with  the  Tyrol 
and  Danubian  provinces  on  the  other.  Spain  and  southern 
Gaul  were  connected  by  a  grand  road  from  Cadiz  to  Nar- 
bonne  and  Aries.  Lyons  was  another  centre  from  which 
branched  out  military  roads  to  Saintes,  Marseilles,  Bou 
logne,  and  Mayence.  In  fact,  the  Roman  legion  could 
traverse  every  province  in  the  empire  over  these  grandly 
built  public  roads,  as  great  and  important  in  the  second  cen 
tury  as  railroads  are  at  the  present  time.  There  was  an 
uninterrupted  communication  from  the  Wall  of  Antonius 
through  York,  London,  Sandwich,  Boulogne,  Rheirns,  Ly 
ons,  Milan,  Rome,  Brundusium,  Dyrracliiurn,  Byzantium, 
Ancyra,  Tarsus,  Antioch,  Tyre,  Jerusalem  —  a  distance 
of  3740  miles.  And  these  roads  were  divided  by  mile 
stones,  and  houses  for  travelers  erected  every  five  or  six 
miles. 

Commerce    under  the    emperors  was  not  what  it  now 
is,  but  still  was  very  considerable,  and  thus  united 

Commerce.  .  . 

the  various  provinces  together.  1  lie  most  remote 
countries  were  ransacked  to  furnish  luxuries  for  Rome. 
Every  year  a  fleet  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  vessels  sailed 
from  the  Red  Sea  for  the  islands  of  the  Indian  Ocean. 
But  the  Mediterranean,  with  the  rivers  which  flowed  into 
it,  was  the  great  highway  of  the  ancient  navigator.  Navi 
gation  by  the  ancients  was  even  more  rapid  than  in  modern 
times  before  the  invention  of  steam,  since  oars  were  em 
ployed  as  well  as  sails.  In  summer  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  Roman  miles  were  sailed  over  in  twenty-four  hours. 
This  was  the  average  speed,  or  about  seven  knots.  From 
the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  vessels  could  usually  reach  Africa 
in  two  days,  Massilia  in  three,  Tarraco  in  four,  and  the 
Pillars  of  Hercules  in  seven.  From  Puteoli  the  passage  to 
Alexandria  had  been  effected,  with  moderate  winds,  in  nine 
days.  But  these  facts  apply  only  to  the  summer,  and  to 
objects  of  favorable  winds.  The  Romans  did  not  navigate 

ancient  com-  ,          .       ,  -n  •  ^i 

in  the  inclement  seasons.     But  in  summer  the 


CHAP,  ii.]  Rome.  97 

great  inland  sea  was  white  with  sails.  Great  fleets 
brought  corn  from  Gaul,  Spain,  Sardinia,  Africa,  Sicily, 
and  Egypt.  This  was  the  most  important  trade.  But  a 
considerable  commerce  was  carried  on  in  ivory,  tortoise- 
shell,  cotton  and  silk  fabrics,  pearls  and  precious  stones, 
gums,  spices,  wines,  wool,  oil.  Greek  and  Asiatic  wines, 
especially  the  Chian  and  Lesbian,  were  in  great  demand  at 
Rome.  The  transport  of  earthenware,  made  generally  in 
the  Grecian  cities ;  of  wild  animals  for  the  amphitheatre  ; 
of  marble,  of  the  spoils  of  eastern  cities,  of  military  en 
gines,  and  stores,  and  horses,  required  very  large  fleets  and 
thousands  of  mariners,  which  probably  belonged,  chiefly, 
to  great  maritime  cities  like  Alexandria,  Corinth,  Car 
thage,  Rhodes,  Cyrene,  Massalia,  Neapolis,  Tarenturn,  and 
Syracuse.  These  great  cities  with  their  dependencies, 
required  even  more  vessels  for  communication  with  each 
other  than  for  Rome  herself — the  great  central  object  of 
enterprise  and  cupidity. 

In  this  survey  of  the  provinces  and  cities  which  com 
posed  the  empire  of  the  Caesars,  I  have  not  yet  spoken  of 
the  great  central  city  —  the  City  of  the  Seven  The  metrop- 

TT'11  1    •     1          11       1      *  11  *«i  -r>  ol*s  °f  *ke 

Hills,  to  winch  all  the  world  was  tributary,  liome  empire. 
was  so  grand,  so  vast,  so  important  in  every  sense,  polit 
ical  and  social  ;  she  was  such  a  concentration  of  riches  and 
wonders,  that  it  demands  a  separate  and  fuller  notice  than 
what  I  have  been  able  to  give  of  those  proud  capitals 
which  finally  yielded  to  her  majestic  domination.  All  other 
cities  not  merely  yielded  precedence,  but  contributed  to  her 
greatness.  Whatever  was  costly,  or  rare,  or  beautiful  in 
Greece,  or  Asia,  or  Egypt,  was  appropriated  by  her  citizen 
kings,  since  citizens  were  provincial  governors.  All  the 
great  roads,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Tigris,  converged  to 
Rome.  All  the  ships  of  Alexandria  and  Carthage  and 
Tarentum,  and  other  commercial  capitals,  were  employed 
in  furnishing  her  with  luxuries  or  necessities.  Never  was. 
there  so  proud  a  city  as  this  "  Epitome  of  the  Universe." 
7 


98  Grandeur  and  Glory  of  the  Empire.     [CHAP.  II 

London,  Paris,  Vienna,  Constantinople,  St.  Petersburg, 
Berlin,  are  great  centres  of  fashion  and  power  ;  but  they 
are  rivals,  and  excel  only  in  some  great  department  of  hu 
man  enterprise  and  genius,  as  in  letters,  or  fashions,  or  com 
merce,  or  manufactures  —  centres  of  influence  and  power 
in  the  countries  of  which  they  are  capitals,  yet  they  do 
not  monopolize  the  wealth  and  energies  of  the  world.  Lon 
don  may  contain  more  people  than  ancient  Rome,  and  may 
possess  more  commercial  wealth  ;  but  London  represents 
only  the  British  monarchy,  not  a  universal  empire.  Rome, 
The  centre  however,  monopolized  every  thing,  and  controlled 
prideoftha  a^  nations  and  peoples.  She  could  shut  up  the 
schools  of  Athens,  or  disperse  the  ships  of  Alex 
andria,  or  regulate  the  shops  of  Antioch.  What  Lyons  or 
Bordeaux  is  to  Paris,  Corinth  or  Babylon  was  to  Rome  — 
secondary  cities,  dependent  cities.  Paul  condemned  at 
Jerusalem,  stretched  out  his  arms  to  Rome,  and  Rome  pro 
tects  him.  The  philosophers  of  Greece  are  the  tutors  of 
Roman  nobility.  The  kings  of  the  East  resort  to  the  pal 
aces  of  Mount  Palatine  for  favors  or  safety.  The  governors 
of  Syria  and  Egypt,  reigning  in  the  palaces  of  ancient 
kings,  return  to  Rome  to  squander  the  riches  they  have 
accumulated.  Senators  and  nobles  take  their  turn  as  sov 
ereign  rulers  of  all  the  known  countries  of  the  world.  The 
halls  in  which  Darius,  and  Alexander,  and  Pericles,  and 
Croesus,  and  Solomon,  and  Cleopatra  have  feasted,  if  un- 
spared  by  the  conflagrations  of  war,  witness  the  banquets 
of  Roman  proconsuls.  Babylon  and  Thebes  and  Athens 
were  only  what  Delhi  and  Calcutta  are  to  the  English  of 
our  day  —  cities  to  be  ruled  by  the  delegates  of  the  Roman 
Senate.  Rome  was  the  only  "  home  "  of  the  proud  gov 
ernors  who  reigned  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  of  the 
Seine,  of  the  Rhine,  of  the  Nile,  of  the  Tigris.  After  they 
had  enriched  themselves  with  the  spoils  of  the  ancient  mon 
archies  they  returned  to  their  estates  in  Italy,  or  to  their 
palaces  on  the  Aventine,  for  the  earth  had  but  one  capital 


CHAP,  ii.]  Rome.  99 

—  one  great  centre  of  attraction.  To  an  Egyptian  even, 
Alexandria  was  only  provincial.  He  must  travel  to  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber  to  see  something  greater  than  his  own 
capital.  It  was  the  seat  of  government  for  one  hundred 
and  twenty  millions  of  people.  It  was  the  arbiter  its  varied 
of  taste  and  fashion.  It  was  the  home  of  gen-  interest. 
erals  and  senators  and  statesmen,  of  artists  and  scholars 
and  merchants,  who  were  renowned  throughout  the  em 
pire.  It  was  enriched  by  the  contributions  of  conquered 
nations  for  eight  hundred  years.  It  contained  more  mar 
ble  statues  than  living  inhabitants.  Every  spot  was  con 
secrated  by  associations  ;  every  temple  had  a  history  ; 
every  palace  had  been  the  scene  of  festivities  which  made 
it  famous ;  every  monument  pointed  to  the  deeds  of  the 
illustrious  dead,  and  swelled  the  pride  of  the  most  power 
ful  families  which  aristocratic  ages  had  created. 

For  the  ancient  authorities,  see  Strabo,  Pliny,  Polybius,  Diodorus 
Siculus,  Titus  Livius,  Pausanias,  and  Herodotus.  There  is  an  able 
chapter  on  Mediterranean  prosperity  in  Napoleon's  History  of  Ccesar. 
Smith,  Dictionary  of  Ancient  Geography,  is  exhaustive.  See,  also, 
Miiller,  article  on  Atticus,  in  Ersch,  and  G-ruber's  Encyclopedia,  trans 
lated  by  Lockhart ;  Stuart  and  Revett,  Antiquities  of  Atticus ;  Dod- 
well,  Tour  through  Greece;  Wilkinson,  Hand-book  for  Travelers  in 
Egypt ;  Becker,  Hand-book  of  Rome.  Anthon  has  compiled  a  useful 
work  on  ancient  geography,  but  the  most  accessible  and  valuable  book 
on  the  material  aspects  of  the  old  Roman  world  is  the  great  dictionary 
of  Smith,  from  which  this  chapter  is  chiefly  compiled. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    WONDERS    OF    ANCIENT    ROME. 

THE  great  capital  of  the  ancient  world  had  a  very  hum 
ble  beginning,  and  that  is  involved  in  myth  and  mystery. 
Even  the  Latin  stock,  inhabiting  the  country  from  the 
Tiber  to  the  Volscian  mountains,  which  furnished  the  first 
Early  m-  inhabitants  of  the  city,  cannot  be  clearly  traced, 

habitants  of  .  ' , .   .  t*     ^        n  "  •  • 

Italy.  since  we  have  no  traditions  or  the  first  migration 

of  the  human  race  into  Italy.  It  is  supposed  by  Mommsen 
that  the  peoples  which  inhabited  Latin  m  belong  to  the 
Indo-Germanic  family.  Among  these  were  probably  the 
independent  cantons  of  the  Ramnians,  Tities,  and  Luceres, 
which  united  to  form  a  single  commonwealth,  and  occupied 
the  hills  which  arose  about  fourteen  miles  from  the  mouth 
of  the  Tiber.  Around  these  hills  was  a  rural  population 
which  tilled  the  fields.  From  these  settlements  a  fortified 
fort  arose  on  the  Palatine  Hill,  fitted  to  be  a  place  of  trade 
from  its  situation  on  the  Tiber,  and  also  a  fortress  to  pro 
tect  the  urban  villages.  Though  unhealthy  in  its  site,  it 
was  admirably  adapted  for  these  purposes,  and  thus  early 
became  an  important  place. 

The    legends    attribute   a    different    foundation    of  the 

C5 

"  Eternal  City."  But  these  also  assign  the  Palatine  as 
the  nucleus  of  ancient  Rome.  It  was  on  this  hill  that 
Romulus  and  Remus  grew  up  to  manhood,  and  it  was  this 
hill  which  Romulus  selected  as  the  site  of  the  city  he  was 
so  desirous  to  build.  But  modern  critics  suppose  that  he 
did  not  occupy  the  whole  hill,  but  only  the  western  part 
of  it.  Varro,  whose  authority  is  generally  received,  as- 


CHAP,  in.]  Rome  under  Numa.  101 

signs  the  year  753  before  Christ  as  the  date  for  the  founda 
tion  of  the  city.  The  first  memorable  incident  Foundation 
in  the  history  of  this  little  city  of  robbers  was  the  of  Rome' 
care  of  Romulus  to  increase  its  population  by  opening  an 
asylum  for  fugitive  slaves  on  the  Capitoline  Hill.  But  this 
supplied  only  males  who  had  no  wives.  And  when  the 
proposal  of  the  founder  to  solicit  intermarriage  with  the 
neighboring  nations  was  rejected,  he  resorted  to  stratagem 
and  force.  He  invites  the  Sabines  and  the  people  of  other 
Latin  towns  to  witness  games.  A  crowd  of  men  and 
women  are  assembled,  and  while  all  are  intent  settlement 

,     under  Rom- 

on  the  games,  the  unmarried  women  are  seized  uius. 
by  the  Roman  youth.     Then  ensues,  of  course,  a  war  with 
the  Sabines,  the  result  of  which  is  that  the  Sabines  are 
united  with  the  Romans  and  settle  on  the  Quirinal.     The 
Saturnian  Hill  is  left  in  possession  of  the  Sabines,  while 
Romulus  assumes  the  Sabine  name  of  Quirinus,  from  which 
we  infer  that  the   Sabines   had  the  best  of  the   conflict. 
Callius,  who,  it  is  said,   assisted  Romulus,  receives  as  a 
compensation  the  hill  known  as  the  Caelian.     At  the  death 
of  Romulus,   who   reigned   thirty -seven    years,   Extentof 
Rome  comprised  the  Palatine,  the  Quirinal,  the   *j£  ^fcof 
Cselian,  and  the  Capitoline  hills.1      The  Sabines  * 
thus  occupy  two  of  the  seven  hills,  and  furnish  not  only 
people  for  the  infant  city,  but  laws,  customs,  and  manners, 
especially  religious  observances. 

The  reign  of  Numa  was  devoted  to  the  consolidation  of 
the  power  which  Romulus  had  acquired,  to  the  The  public 

.  works  of 

civilization  of  his  subjects,  and  the  improvement  Numa. 
of  the  city.  He  fixed  his  residence  between  the  Roman 
and  the  Sabine  city,  and  erected  adjoining  to  the  Regia  a 
temple  to  Vesta,  which  was  probably  only  an  cedes  sacra. 
It  was  probably  along  with  these  buildings  that  the  Sacra 
Via  came  into  existence.  The  Regia  became  in  after  times 
the  residence  of  the  Pontifex  Maximus.  Numa  estab- 

i  M.  Ampere,  Hist.  Rom.,  torn.  i.  ch.  xii. 


102  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

lished  on  the  Palatine  the  Curia  Saliorum,  and  built  on 
the  Quirinal  a  temple  of  Romulus,  afterwards  rebuilt  by 
Augustus.  He  also  erected  on  the  Quirinal  a  citadel  con 
nected  with  a  temple  of  Jupiter,  with  cells  of  Juno  and 
Minerva.  He  converted  the  gate  which  formed  the  en 
trance  of  the  Sabine  city  into  a  temple  of  Janus,  and  laid 
the  foundation  upon  the  Capitoline  of  a  large  temple  to 
Fides  Publica,  the  public  faith. 

Under  the  reign  of  Tullus  Hostilius  was  the  capture  of 
The  reign  of    Alba   Longa,  the   old   capital  of  Latium,  where 

Tullus 

Hostiiius.  Numa  had  reigned,  and  the  transfer  of  its  inhab 
itants  to  Home,  which  thus  became  the  chief  city  of  the 
Latin  league.  They  were  located  on  the  Cselian,  which 
also  became  the  residence  of  the  king.  He  built  the  Curia 
Hostilia,  a  senate  chamber,  to  accommodate  the  noble 
Alban  families,  in  which  the  Roman  Senate  assembled,  at 
the  northwest  corner  of  the  Forum,  to  the  latest  times  of 
the  republic.  It  was  a  templum,  but  not  dedicated  for 
divine  services,  adjoining  the  eastern  side  of  the  Vulcanal. 
improve-  ^ut  °f tne  spoils  of  Alba  Longa,  Tullus  improved 
Sty"  madefy  toe  Comitium,  a  space  at  the  northwest  end  of 
the  Forum,  fronting  the  Curia,  the  common  meet 
ing  place  of  the  Romans  and  Sabines.  On  the  Quirinal 
Hill  he  erected  a  Curia  Saliorum  in  imitation  of  that  of 
Numa  on  the  Palatine,  devoted  to  the  worship  of  Quirinus. 
Ancus  Martius,  a  grandson  of  Numa,  succeeded  Tullus 
Growth  of  after  a  reign  of  thirty-two  years.  Under  him  the 

Rome  during       .  .  *i   i          i        •    i      i  •  p 

therein  of    city  was  greatly  augmented  by  the  inhabitants  ot 

Ancus  Mar-  J.  J5      •  •   •  1-11  11         i          mi 

tius.  various  Latin   cities  which  he  subdued.     These 

settled  on  the  Aventine,  and  in  the  valley  which  separated 
it  from  the  Palatine,  supposed  by  Niebuhr  to  be  the  origin 
of  the  Roman  Plebs,  though  it  is  maintained  by  Lewis  that 
the  Plebeian  order  was  coeval  with  the  foundation  of  the 
city.  Ancus  fortified  Mons  Janiculus,  the  hill  on  the 
western  bank  of  the  Tiber,  for  the  protection  of  the  city. 
He  connected  it  with  Rome  by  the  Pons  Sublicius,  the 


CHAP,  m.]          Reign  of  Tarquinius  Prisons.  103 

earliest  of  the  Roman  bridges,  built  on  piles.  The  Janic- 
ulum  was  not  much  occupied  by  residences  until  the  time 
of  Augustus.  Ancus  founded  Ostia,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Tiber,  which  became  the  port  of  Rome.  It  was  this  king 
who  built  the  famous  Mamertine  Prison,  near  the  Forum, 
below  the  northern  height  of  the  Capitoline. 

A  new  dynasty  succeeded  this  king,  who  reigned  twenty- 
four  years;  that  of  the    Tarquins,   an    Etrurian   Tarqulniua 
family   of   Greek  extraction,  which    came   from   Priscus> 
Corinth,  the  cradle  of  Grecian  art,  celebrated  as  the  birth 
place  of  painting  and  for  its  works  of  pottery  and  bronze. 
Tarquinius  Priscus  constructed  the  Cloaca  Max-  The  Cloaca 
ima,  that  vast  sewer  which  drained  the  Forum  * 
and  Velabrum,  and  which  is  regarded  by  Niebuhr  as  one 
of  the  most  stupendous  monuments  of  antiquity.     It  was 
composed  of  three   semicircular  arches   inclosing  one  an 
other,  the  innermost  of  which  had  a  diameter  of  twelve 
feet,  large  enough  to  be  traversed  by  a  Roman  hay-cart.1 
t   It  was  built  without  cement,  and  still  remains  a  magnifi 
cent  specimen  of  the  perfection  of  the  old  Tuscan  masonry. 
Along  the  southern  side  of  the  Forum   this  enlightened 
monarch  constructed  a  row  of  shops  occupied  by  butchers 
and  other   tradesmen.      At  the  head  of  the   Forum  and 
under  the  Capitoline  he  founded   the  Temple  of  Saturn, 
the  ruins  of  which  attest  considerable  splendor.     But  his 
greatest  work  was  the  foundation  of  the   Capi-  Temple  of  the 

,  rr(  .          Capitoline 

toline  Temple  of  Jupiter,  completed  by  larquin-  jupiter. 
ius  Superbus,  the  consecrated  citadel  in  which  was  depos 
ited  whatever  was  most  valued  by  the  Romans. 

During  the  reign  of  Servius   Tullius,  who   succeeded 
Tarquin  B.  c.  578,  the  various  elements  of  the  Accession  of 

Servius 

population  were  amalgamated,  and  the  seven  hills,   Tuiiius. 
namely,  the  Palatine,  the  Capitoline,  the  Quirinal,  the  Cse- 
lian,  the  Viminal,  the  Esquiline,  and  the  Aventine,  were 
covered  with  houses,  and   inclosed    by  a  wall  about  six 

1  Arnold,  Tliat.  of  Rom.,  vol.  i.  p.  52. 


104:  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.         [CHAP.  ill. 

miles  in  circuit.  A  temple  of  Diana  was  erected  on  the 
Aventine,  besides  two  temples  to  Fortune,  one  to  Juno, 
and  one  to  Luna.  Servius  also  dedicated  the  Campus 
Martius,  and  enlarged  the  Mamertine  Prison  by  adding  a 
subterranean  dungeon  of  impenetrable  strength. 

On  the  assassination  of  Servius  Tullius,  B.  c.  535,  his 
Tarquinius  son-in-law,  Tarquinius  Superbus,  usurped  the 
superbus.  power,  and  did  much  for  the  adornment  of  the 
city.  The  Capitoline  Temple  was  completed  on  an  arti 
ficial  platform,  having  a  triple  row  of  columns  in  front,  and 
a  double  row  at  the  sides.  It  was  two  hundred  feet  wide, 
having  three  cells  adjoining  one  another,  the  centre  appro 
priated  to  Jupiter,  with  Juno  and  Minerva  on  either  hand. 
The  temple  had  a  single  roof,  and  lasted  nearly  five  hun 
dred  years  before  it  was  burned  down,  and  rebuilt  with 
greater  splendor. 

Such  were  the  chief  improvements  of  the  city  during 
Rome  under  the  kino;ly  rule.  Under  the  consuls  the  growth 

the  early  G  J  .  i       i   ,  IT 

consuls.  was  constant,  but  was  not  marked  by  grand  edi 
fices.  Portunus,  the  conqueror  of  the  Tarquins  at  Lake 
Regillus,  erected  a  temple  to  Ceres,  Liber,  and  Libera,  at 
the  western  extremity  of  the  Circus  Maximus.  Camillus 
founded  a  celebrated  temple  to  Juno  on  the  Aventine. 
But  these,  and  a  few  other  temples,  were  destroyed  when 
the  Gauls  held  possession  of  the  city.  The  city  was 
rebuilt  hastily  and  without  much  regard  to  regularity. 
There  was  nothing  memorable  in  its  architectural  monu 
ments  till  the  time  of  Appius  Claudius,  who  constructed 
the  Via  Appia,  the  first  Roman  aqueduct.  In  fact  the 
constant  wars  of  the  Romans  prevented  much  improve 
ment  in  the  city  till  the  fall  of  Tarentum,  although  the 
ambassadors  of  Pyrrhus  were  struck  with  its  grandeur. 
M.  Curius  Dentatus  commenced  the  aqueduct  called  Anio 
Vetus  B.  c.  273,  the  greater  part  of  which  was  under 
ground.  Its  total  length  was  forty-three  miles.  Q.  Fla- 
minius,  B.  c.  220,  between  the  first  and  second  Punic  wars, 


CHAP,  in.]     Rome  after  the   Conquest  of  Greece.  105 

constructed  the  great  highway,  called  after  him  the  Via 
Flaminia  —  the  great  northern  road  of  Italy,  as  the  Via 
Appia  was  the  southern.  These  roads  were  very  Roman 
elaborately  built.  In  constructing  them,  the  earth  roads' 
was  excavated  till  a  solid  foundation  was  obtained  ;  over 
this  a  layer  of  loose  stones  was  laid,  then  another  layer 
nine  inches  thick  of  rubble-work  of  broken  stones  cemented 
with  lime,  then  another  layer  of  broken  pottery  cemented 
in  like  manner,  over  which  was  a  pavement  of  large 
polygonal  blocks  of  hard  stone  nicely  fitted  together. 
Roads  thus  constructed  were  exceedingly  durable,  so  that 
portions  of  them,  constructed  two  thousand  years  ago,  are 
still  in  a  high  state  of  preservation. 

The  improvements  of  Rome  were  rapid  after  the  con 
quest  of  Greece,  although  destructive  fires  frequently  laid 
large  parts  of  the  city  in  ruins.  The  deities  of  the  con 
quered  nations  were  introduced  into  the  Roman  worship, 
and  temples  erected  to  them.  In  the  beginning  Ancient 
of  the  second  century  before  Christ  we  notice  the  b 
erection  of  basilicas,  used  as  courts  of  law  and  a  sort  of 
exchange,  the  first  of  which  was  built  by  M.  Portius  Cato, 
B.  c.  184,  on  the  north  side  of  the  Forum.  It  was  of  an 
oblong  form,  open  to  the  air,  surrounded  with  columns,  at 
one  end  of  which  was  the  tribunal  of  the  judge.  The 
Basilica  Portia  was  soon  followed  by  the  Basilica  Fulvia  be 
hind  the  Argentariae  Nova3,  which  had  replaced  the  butch 
ers'  shops.  Fulvins  Nobilia  further  adorned  the  city  with  a 
temple  of  Hercules  on  the  Campus  Martius,  and  Tempieof 
brought  from  Ambrasia,  once  the  residence  of  Kercules- 
Pyrrhus,  two  hundred  and  thirty  marble  and  two  hundred 
and  eighty-five  bronze  statues,  beside  pictures.  L.  ^Emil- 
ius  Paulus  founded  an  emporium  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tiber  as  a  place  of  landing  and  sale  for  goods  transported 
by  sea,  and  built  a  bridge  over  the  Tiber.  Sempronius 
Gracchus,  the  father  of  the  two  demagogue  patriots,  erected 
a  third  Basilica  B.  c.  169,  on  the  south  side  of  the  Forum 


106  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

on  the  site  of  the  house  of  Scipio  Africanus.  The  triumph 
of  jEmilius  Paulus  introduced  into  the  city  pictures  and 
statues  enough  to  load  two  hundred  an'd  fifty  chariots,  and 
a  vast  quantity  of  gold  and  silver.  Cornelius  Octavius,  B.  c. 
167,  built  a  grand  palace  on  the  Palatine,  one  of  the  first 
examples  of  elegant  domestic  architecture,  and  erected  a 
magnificent  double  portico  with  capitals  of  Corinthian 
Asiatic  bronze.  With  the  growing  taste  for  architectural 
luxuries.  display,  various  Asiatic  luxuries  were  introduced 
—  bronze  beds,  massive  sideboards,  tables  of  costly  woods, 
cooks,  pantomimists,  female  dancers,  and  luxurious  ban 
quets.  Metellus  erected  the  first  marble  temple  seen  in 
Rome,  before  which  he  placed  the  twenty-five  bronze  stat 
ues  which  Lysippus  had  executed  for  Alexander  the  Great. 

The  same  year  that  witnessed  the  triumph  of  Metellus, 
Sack  of  B>  c-  146,  also  saw  the  fall  of  Carthage  and  the 
sack  of  Corinth  by  Mummius,  so  that  many  of 
the  choicest  specimens  of  Grecian  art  were  brought  to  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber.  Among  these  was  the  celebrated 
picture  of  Bacchus  by  Aristides,  which  was  placed  in  the 
Temple  of  Bacchus,  Ceres,  and  Proserpine.  The  Forum 
Adornment  now  contained  many  gems  of  Grecian  art,  among 
Forum.  which  were  the  statues  of  Alcibiades  and  Pythag 
oras  which  stood  near  the  comitium,  the  Three  Sibyls 
placed  before  the  rostra,  and  a  picture  by  Serapion,  which 
covered  the  balconies  of  the  tabernse  on  the  south  side 
of  the  Forum. 

In  the  year  144  B.  c.,  Q.  Marcius  Rex  constructed  the 
Aqua  Aqua  Marcia,  one  of  the  noblest  of  the  Roman 

monuments,  sixty-two  miles  in  length,  seven  of 
which  were  on  arches,  sufficiently  lofty  to  supply  the  Capi- 
toline  with  pure  and  cold  water.  Seventeen  years  after, 
the  Aqua  Tepula  was  added  to  the  aqueducts  of  Rome. 

The  first  triumphal  arch  erected  to  commemorate  vic- 

Triumphai     tories  was  in  the  year  B.  C.  196,  by  L.  Sertinius. 

Scipio  Africanus   erected  another  on  the  Capi- 


CHAP,  in.]  Private  Palaces.  107 

toline,  and  Q.  Fabius,  B.  c.  121,  raised  another  in  honor  of 
his  victories  over  the  Allobroges.  This  spanned  the  Via 
Sacra  where  it  entered  the  Forum,  and  at  that  time  was 
a  conspicuous  monument,  though  vastly  inferior  to  the 
arches  of  the  imperial  regime. 

When  tranquillity  was  restored  to  Rome  after  the  riots 
connected  with  the  murder  of  the  Gracchi,  the   Temple  Of 
Senate  ordered  a  Temple  of  Concord  to  be  built,  Coucord- 
B.  c.  121,  in  commemoration  of  the  event.     This  temple 
was  on  the  elevated  part  of  the  Vulcanal,  and  was  of  con 
siderable  magnitude.     It  was  used  for  the  occasional  meet 
ings  of  the  Senate,  and  contained  many  valuable  works  of 
art.     Adjoining  this  temple,  Opirnius,  the  consul,  Basiiica 
erected  the  Basilica  Opimia,  which  was  used  by  Opunia' 
the  silversmiths,  who  were  the  bankers  and  pawnbrokers 
of  Rome.      The  whole  quarter  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Forum,  where   this    basilica    stood,  was    the    Roman   ex 
change —  the  focus  for  all  monetary  transactions. 

The  increasing  wealth  and  luxury  of  Rome,  especially 
caused  by  the  conquest  of  Asia,  led  to  the  erection  on  the 
Palatine  of  those  magnificent  private  residences,  Private 
which  became  one  of  the  most  striking  features  palaces' 
of  the  capital.  The  first  of  these  historical  houses  was 
built  by  M.  Livius  Drusus,  and  overlooked  the  city.  It 
afterwards  passed  into  the  hands  of  Crassus,  Cicero,  and 
Censorinus.  Pompey  had  a  house  on  the  Palatine,  but 
afterwards  transferred  his  residence  to  the  Casinae,  another 
aristocratic  quarter.  M.  ^Emilius  Lepidus  also  lived  in  a 
magnificent  palace  ;  the  house  of  Crassus  was  still  more 
splendid,  adorned  with  columns  of  marble  from  Mount 
Hymettus.  The  house  of  Catullus  excelled  even  that  of 
Crassus.  This  again  was  excelled  by  that  of  Aquillius  on 
the  Viminal,  which  for  some  time  was  the  most  splendid  in 
Rome,  until  Lucullus  occupied  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
Pincian  Hill  with  his  gardens  and  galleries  of  art,  which 
contained  some  of  the  chefs  d'oeuvre  of  antiquity.  The 


108  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.         [CHAP.  III. 

gardens  of  Servilius,  which  lay  on  the  declivity  of  the 
Houses  of  Aventine,  were  adorned  with  Greek  statues,  ex- 
the  nobles.  ceeded  in  beauty  by  those  of  Sallust  between  the 
Pincian  and  the  Quirinal  hills,  built  with  the  spoils  of 
Numidia,  and  ultimately  the  property  of  the  emperors. 
The  house  of  Clodius  on  the  Palatine,  near  to  that  of 
Cicero,  was  one  of  the  finest  in  Rome,  occupied  before  him 
by  Scaurus,  who  gave  for  it  nearly  fifteen  million  ses 
terces,  about  $650,000.  It  was  adorned  with  Greek 
paintings  and  sculptures.  The  house  of  Cicero,  which  he 
bought  of  Crassus,  cost  him  $  150,000.  Its  atrium  was 
adorned  with  Greek  marble  columns  thirty-eight  feet  high. 
Hortensius  lived  in  a  house  on  the  Palatine,  afterwards 
occupied  by  Augustus.  The  residence  of  his  friend  Atti- 
cus,  on  the  Quirinal,  was  more  modest,  whose  chief  orna 
ment  was  a  grove.  Pompey  surrounded  his  house  with 
gardens  and  porticos. 

The  year  83  B.  c.  was  marked  by  the  destruction  by  fire 
Destruction  °^  tne  °^  Capitolinc  Temple,  which  had  with- 
inngdoftheld"  Stood  tne  ravages  of  the  Gauls.  Sulla  aspired  to 
rebuild  it,  and  caused  to  be  transported  to  Rome 
for  that  purpose  the  column  of  the  Olympian  Zeus  at 
Athens.  It  was  completed  by  Caesar,  and  its  roof  was 
gilded  at  an  expense  of  $15.000,000.  The  pediment  was 
adorned  with  statuary,  and  near  it  was  a  colossal  statue 
of  Jupiter. 

In  the  early  ages  of  the  republic  there  were  no  theatres 
at  Rome,  theatrical  representations  being  regarded  as  de 
moralizing.  The  regular  drama  was  the  last  development 
even  of  Grecian  genius.  The  Roman  aristocracy  set  their 
faces  against  dramatic  entertainments  till  after  the  conquest 
of  Greece.  These  plays  were  introduced  and  performed 
on  temporary  stages  in  the  open  air,  or  in  wooden  build- 
Theatre  of  mgs-  There  was  no  grand  theatre  till  Pompey 
Pompey.  erected  one  of  stone,  B.  C.  55,  in  the  Campus 
Martius,  which  was  capable  of  holding  eighty  thousand 


CHAP,  in.]  Improvements  of  Augustus.  109 

spectators,  and  it  had  between  its  numerous  pillars  three 
thousand  bronze  statues.1  He  also  erected,  behind  his 
theatre,  a  grand  portico  of  one  hundred  pillars,  which  be 
came  one  of  the  most  fashionable  lounging- places  of  Rome, 
and  which  was  adorned  with  statues  and  images.  Pompey 
also  built  various  temples. 

His  great  rival  however  surpassed  him  in  labors  to  orna 
ment  the  capital.     Caesar  enlarged  the  Forum,  or  rather 
added  a  new  one,  the  ground  of  which  cost  -$2,500,000. 
It  was  called  the  Forum  Julian,  and  was  three   Forum 
hundred  and  forty  feet  long  by  two  hundred  wide,   Juhan- 
containing  a  temple  of  Venus.      He  did  not  live,  however, 
to  carry   out   his    magnificent    plans.      He    contemplated 
building  an  edifice,  for  the  assembly  of  the  Comitia  Tribu 
te,  of  marble,  with  a  portico   inclosing  a  space  of  a  mile 
square,  and  also  the  erection  of  a  temple  to  Mars  of  un 
paralleled  size  and  magnificence.    He  commenced   Bag^a 
the   Basilica   Julia  and  the   Curia   Julia  —  vast  Julia' 
buildings,  which  were  completed  under  the  emperors. 

Such  were  the  principal  edifices  of  Rome  until  the  im 
perial  sway.     Augustus  boasted  that  he  found  the  city  of 

brick  and  left  it  of  marble.     It  was  not  until  the   Rome  under 

in-!     11       •         •  i  i-i  tlie  ^mPer' 

emperors  embellished  the  city  with  amphitheatres,   ors. 

theatres,  baths,  and  vast  architectural  monuments  that  it 
was  really  worthy  to  be  regarded  as  the  metropolis  of  the 
world.  The  great  improvements  of  Rome  in  the  repub 
lican  period  were  of  a  private  nature,  such  as  the  palaces  of 
senatorial  families.  There  were  no  temples  equal  to  those 
in  the  Grecian  cities  either  for  size,  ornament,  or  beauty. 
Indeed,  Rome  was  never  famous  for  temples,  but  for  edi 
fices  of  material  utility  rather  than  for  the  worship  of  the 
gods ;  yet  the  Romans,  under  the  rule  of  the  aristocracy, 
were  more  religious  than  the  Corinthians  or  Athenians. 

On  the   destruction   of  the   senatorial  or  constitutional 
party  that  had  ruled  since  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  and 

1  Plin.  H.  N.t  xxxvi.  24. 


110  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

probably  before,  and  the  peaceful  accession  of  Augustus, 
works  of  B-  c-  ^1»  a  great  impulse  was  given  to  the  em- 
Augustus,  bellishments  of  the  city.  His  long  reign,  his 
severe  taste,  and  his  immense  resources,  —  undisputed 
master  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  millions  of  subjects,  — 
enabled  him  to  carry  out  the  designs  of  Julius,  and  to 
restore  an  immense  number  of  monuments  falling  to  decay. 
But  Rome  was  even  then  deficient  in  those  things  which 

o 

most  attract  attention  in  our  modern  capitals  —  the  streets 
and  squares.  The  longest  street  of  Rome  was  scarcely 
three  fourths  of  a  mile  in  length  ;  but  the  houses  upon  it 
were  of  great  altitude.  Moreover  the  streets  were  narrow 
and  dark  —  scarcely  more  than  fifteen  feet  in  width.  But 
they  were  not  encumbered  with  carriages.  Private  equi 
pages,  which  form  one  of  the  most  imposing  features  of 
a  modern  city,  were  unknown.  There  was  nothing  at 
tractive  in  a  Roman  street,  dark,  narrow,  and  dirty,  with 
but  few  vehicles,  and  with  dingy  shops,  like  those  of  Paris 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  The  sun  scarcely  ever  penetrated 
to  them.  They  were  damp  and  cold.  The  greater  part 
of  the  city  belonged  to  wealthy  and  selfish  capitalists, 
like  Crassus,  who  thought  more  of  their  gains  than  the 
health  or  beauty  of  the  city.  The  Stibura,  the 
Sub  Velia,  and  the  Velabrum,  built  in  the  val 
leys,  were  choked  up  with  tall  houses,  frequently  more, 
and  seldom  less,  than  seventy  feet  in  height.  The  hills 
alone  were  covered  with  aristocratic  residences,  temples, 
and  public  monuments.  The  only  open  space,  where  the 
poor  people  could  get  fresh  air  and  extensive  prospect,  wa? 
Forum  RO-  tne  Circus  Maximus  and  the  Forum  Romanum. 

manum.  The  former  w&s  tnree  fourt]ls  Qf  a  mjje  m  lengtn 

and  one  eighth  in  breadth,  surrounded  with  a  double  row 
of  benches,  the  lower  of  stone  and  the  upper  of  wood, 
and  would  seat  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand 
spectators.  The  Forum  was  the  centre  of  architectural 
splendor,  as  well  as  of  life  and  business.  Its  original  site 


CHAP,  in.]  Productions  and  Roads.  Ill 

extended  from  the  eastern  part  of  the  Capitoline  to  the 
spot  where  the  Velia  begins  to  ascend,  and  was  bounded 
on  the  south  by  the  Via  Sacra,  which  extended  to  the  arx 
or  citadel.  It  was  that  consecrated  street  by  which  the 
augurs  descended  when  they  inaugurated  the  great  festi 
vals  of  the  republic,  and  in  which  lived  the  Pontifex 
Maximus.  Although  the  Forum  Romanum  was  only 
seven  hundred  feet  by  four  hundred  and  seventy,  yet  it 
was  surrounded  by  and  connected  with  basilicas,  halls,  por 
ticoes,  temples,  and  shops.  It  was  a  place  of  great  public 
resort  for  all  classes  of  people  —  a  scene  of  life  Itsmagnifi. 
and  splendor  rarely  if  ever  equaled,  and  having  cence 
some  resemblance  to  the  crowded  square  of  Venice  on 
which  St.  Mark's  stands.  Originally  it  was  a  market 
place,  busy  and  lively,  a  great  resort  where  might  be  seen 
"  good  men  walking  quietly  by  themselves,"  1  "  flash  men 
strutting  about  without  a  denarius  in  their  purses,"  "  gour 
mands  clubbing  for  a  dinner,"  "  scandal-mongers  living  in 
glass  houses,"  "  perjured  witnesses,  liars,  braggarts,  rich 
and  erring  husbands,  worn-out  harlots,"  and  all  the  various 
classes  which  now  appear  in  the  crowded  places  of  London 
or  Paris.  In  this  open  space  the  people  were  assembled 
on  great  public  occasions,  and  here  they  were  addressed 
by  orators  and  tribunes.  Immediately  surround-  surrounding 
ing  the  Forum  Romanum,  or  in  close  proximity  l 
to  it,  were  the  most  important  public  buildings  of  the  city 
in  which  business  was  transacted  —  the  courts  of  law,  the 
administrative  bureaus,  the  senate  chamber  and  the  prin 
cipal  temples,  as  well  as  monuments  and  shops.  On  the 
north  side  was  the  Comitium,  an  open  space  for  holding 
the  Comitia  Curiata  and  heavy  lawsuits,  and  making 
speeches  to  the  assembled  people.  During  the  kingly 
government  the  temples  of  Janus  and  Vesta  and  Saturn 
were  erected,  also  the  Curia  Hostilia,  a  senate-house,  the 
Senaculum,  the  Mamertine  Prison,  and  the  TabernaB  or 

i  Plautus  Cuve,  iv.  1. 


112  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

porticoes  and  shops  inclosing  the  Forum.  During  the 
Temple  of  republic  the  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  which 
Poiiux.aii  served  for  the  assembly  of  the  Senate  and  judi 
cial  business,  was  erected,  not  of  the  largest  size,  but  very 
rich  and  beautiful.  The  Basilica  Portia,  where  the  trib 
unes  of  the  people  held  their  assemblies,  was  founded  by 
Cato  the  Censor,  and  this  was  followed  by  the  Basilica 
Fulvia,  with  columns  of  Phrygian  marble,  admired  by 
Pliny  for  its  magnificence,  the  Basilica  Sempronia,  the 
Temple  of  Concord,  and  the  Triumphal  Arch  of  Fabius, 
to  commemorate  his  victories  over  the  Allobroges.  Under 
Basilica  tne  empire,  the  magnificent  Basilica  Julia  wras 
juiia.  erected  for  the  sittings  of  the  law  courts,  and  its 

immense  size  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  one  hun 
dred  and  eighty  judges,  divided  into  four  courts,  with  four 
separate  tribunals,  with  seats  for  advocates  and  spectators, 
were  accustomed  to  assemble.  Tiberius  erected  a  trium 
phal  arch  near  the  Temple  of  Saturn.  Domitian  built 
the  Temple  of  Vespasian  and  Titus,  and  erected  to  him 
self  a  colossal  equestrian  statue.  Near  it  rose  the  temples 
of  Divus- Julius  and  of  Antoninus  and  Faustina.  Beside 
Arch  of  sep-  these  were  the  Triumphal  Arch  of  Septimius 

timius  Seve-      ,-,  .,,  1.  i         /->i    i  n   T-»I 

rus,and         Severus,  still  standing  ;  the  Columns  of  Phocas 

columns  of  ,     „.  ,          ,  „         ,  .    ,       .         ,          (, 

Trajan.  and  Trajan,  the  latter  of  which  is  the  finest 
monument  of  its  kind  in  the  world,  one  hundred  and 
twenty-seven  feet  high,  with  a  spiral  band  of  admirable 
reliefs  containing  two  thousand  five  hundred  human  fig 
ures.  Beside  these,  new  fora  of  immense  size  were  con- 
Forum  structed  by  various  emperors,  not  for  political 
juiium.  business  so  much  as  courts  of  justice.  The  Forum 
Julium,  which  connected  with  the  old  Forum  Romanum, 
was  virtually  a  temple  of  great  magnificence.  In  front 
of  it  was  the  celebrated  bronze  horse  of  Lysippus,  and  the 
temple  was  enriched  with  precious  offerings  and  adorned 
Forum  witn  pictures  from  the  best  Greek  artists.  It  was 
August!,  devoted  to  legal  business.  The  Forum  Augusti 


CHAP,  in.]         The  Attractions  of  the  Forum.  113 

was  still  larger,  and  also  inclosed  a  temple,  in  which  the 
Senate  assembled  to  consult  about  wars  and  triumphs,  and 
was  surrounded  with  porticoes  in  which  the  statues  of  the 
most  eminent  Roman  generals  were  placed,  while  on  each 
side  were  the  triumphal  arches  of  Germanicus  and  Drusus. 
More  extensive  and  magnificent  than  either  of  the  old  fora 
was  the  one  which  Trajan  erected,  in  the  centre  Forumof 
of  which  was  the  celebrated  column  of  the  em-  lrajaQ 
peror,  so  universally  admired,  while  the  sides  were  orna 
mented  with  a  double  colonnade  of  gray  Egyptian  marble, 
the  columns  of  which  were  fifty-five  feet  in  height.     This 
was  one  of  the  most  gigantic  structures  in  Rome,  covering 
more  ground  than  the  Flavian  Amphitheatre,  and  built  by 
the   celebrated  Apollodorus    of  Damascus.     It  filled  the 
whole  space  between  the  Capitoline  and  Quirinal.     The 
Basilica    Ulpia    was    only    one    division    of    this  Ba8}Uca 
vast  edifice,  divided  internally  by  four  rows  of    Ulpia> 
columns  of  gray  granite,  and  paved  with  slabs  of  marble. 

Nothing  in  Rome,  or  perhaps  any  modern  city,  exceeded 
the  glory  and  beauty  of  the  Forum,  with  the  ^g^ 
adjoining  basilica,  and  other  public  buildings,  Forum. 
filled  with  statues  and  pictures,  and  crowded  with  people. 
The  more  aristocratic  loungers  sought  the  retired  prome 
nade  afforded  by  the  porticoes  near  the  Circus  Flaminius, 
where  the  noise  and  clamor  of  the  crowded  streets,  the 
cries  of  venders,  the  sports  of  boys,  and  the  curses  of  wag 
oners,  could  not  reach  them.  The  Forum  was  the  peculiar 
glory  of  the  republican  period,  where  the  Gracchi  enlight 
ened  the  people  on  their  political  rights,  where  Cato  calmed 
the  passions  of  the  mob,  where  Cicero  and  Hortensius 
delivered  their  magnificent  harangues. 

The  glory  of  the  Augustan  age  was  more  seen  in  the 
magnificent  buildings  which  arose  upon  the  hills,  Works  of 
although  he  gave  attention  to  the  completion  of  ^s^08- 
many  works  of  utility  or  beauty  in  other  parts  of  the  city.- 
He  restored  the  Capitoline  temple  and  the  theatre  of  Pom- 


114  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

pey ;  repaired  aqueducts ;  finished  the  Forum  and  Basili 
ca  Julia  ;  and  entirely  built  the  Curia  Julia.  He  founded, 
on  the  Palatine,  the  Imperial  Palace,  afterwards  enlarged 
by  his  successors  until  it  entirely  covered  the  original  city 
of  Romulus.  Among  the  most  beautiful  of  his  works  was 
Temple  of  the  Temple  of  Apollo,  the  columns  of  which 
Apoiio.  were  of  African  marble,  between  which  were  the 
statues  of  the  fifty  Danaids.  In  the  temple  was  a  mag 
nificent  statue  of  Apollo,  and  around  the  altar  were  the 
images  of  four  oxen  —  the  work  of  Miron,  so  beautifully 
sculptured  that  they  seemed  alive.  The  temple  was  of  the 
finest  marble ;  its  gates  were  of  ivory,  finely  sculptured. 
Attached  to  this  temple  was  a  library,  where  the  poets, 
orators,  and  philosophers  assembled,  and  recited  their  pro 
ductions.  The  Forum  August!  was  another  of  the  noblest 
monuments  of  this  emperor,  in  order  to  provide  accommo 
dation  for  the  crowds  which  overflowed  the  Forum  Ro- 
Theatreof  mamim.  He  also  built  the  theatre  of  Marcellus, 
Marceiius.  capable  of  holding  twenty  thousand  spectators. 

Nor  was  Augustus  alone  the  patron  of  the  arts.  His 
son-in-law,  and  prime  minister,  Agrippa,  adorned  the  city 
with  many  noble  structures,  of  which  the  Pan 
theon  remains  to  attest  his  munificence.  This 
temple,  the  best  preserved  of  all  the  monuments  of  ancient 
splendor,  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  Campus  Martius,  and 
contained  only  the  images  of  the  deities  immediately  con 
nected  with  the  Julian  race  and  the  early  history  of  Rome. 
Agrippa  was  the  first  to  establish  those  famous  baths, 
which  became  the  most  splendid  monuments  of  imperial 
Therm*  munificence.  The  Thermae  Agrippaa  stood  at 
Agrippa,.  the  |3ack  Of  tne  pantheon.  It  was  fed  by  the 
Aqua  Virgo,  an  aqueduct  which  Agrippa  purposely  con 
structed  to  furnish  water  for  his  baths.  Many  other  archi 
tectural  monuments  marked  the  public  spirit  of  this  en- 
campus  lightened  and  liberal  minister,  especially  in  the 
quarter  of  the  Circus  Flaminius  and  the  Campus 


CHAP,  in.]  Mausoleum  of  Augustus.  115 

Martins.  This  quarter  was  like  a  separate  town,  more 
magnificent  than  any  part  of  the  ancient  city.  It  was 
adorned  with  temples,  porticoes,  and  theatres,  and  other 
buildings  devoted  to  amusement  and  recreation.  It  had 
not  many  private  houses,  but  these  were  of  remarkable 
splendor.  Other  courtiers  of  Augustus  followed  his  ex 
ample  for  the  embellishment  of  the  city.  Statilius  Tau 
rus  built  the  first  permanent  amphitheatre  of  Worksofthe 
stone  in  the  Campus  Martius.  L.  Cornelius  * 
Balbur  built  at  his  own  expense  a  stone  theatre.  L.  Mar- 
cius  Philippus  rebuilt  the  temple  of  Hercules  Musarum, 
and  surrounded  it  with  a  portico.  L.  Cornificius  built  a 
temple  of  Diana.  Asininius  Pollio  an  Atrium  Libertatis ; 
and  Munatius  Plaucus  a  temple  of  Saturn.  Maecenas, 
who  lived  upon  the  Esquiline,  converted  the  Campus 
Esquilinus,  near  the  Subura,  a  pauper  burial-ground  of 
fensive  to  both  sight  and  health,  into  beautiful  gardens, 
called  the  Horti  Maecenatis. 

Nunc  licet  esquiliis  habitare  salubribus  atque, 
Aggere  in  Aprico  Spatiari,  quo  mode  tristes. 
Albis  informem  spectabant  ossibus  agrum.1 

Near  these  gardens  Virgil  lived,  also  Propertius,  and  prob 
ably  Horace.  The  Esquiline,  once  a  plebeian  quarter, 
seems  to  have  been  selected  by  the  literary  men,  who 
sought  the  favor  of  Maecenas,  for  their  abode.  Ovid 
lived  near  the  capitol,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
Quirinal. 

Among  the  other  buildings  which  Augustus  erected, 
should  not  be  omitted  the  magnificent  Mauso-  Mausoieum 
leum,  or  the  tomb  of  the  imperial  family  at  the  of  Augustu8' 
northern  part  of  the  Campus  Martius,  near  which  lay  the 
remains  of  Sulla  and  of  Caesar,  and  which  remained  the 
burial-place  of  his  family  down  to  the  time  of  Hadrian.2 

1  Horace,  Sat.  i.  8. 

2  "  This  enduring  structure,  which  survived  the  conflagrations,  the  wars,  and 
the  anarchies  of  fifteen  hundred  years,  consisted  of  a  large  tumu-    Mausoleum 
lus  of  earth,  raised  on  a  lofty  basement  of  white  marble,  and    Of  Augustus, 
covered  on  the  summit  with  evergreens  in  the  manner  of  a  hang- 


116  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP,  m 

He  also  brought  from  Egypt  the  obelisk  which  now  stands 
on  Mount  Citorio,  and  which  was  placed  in  that  receptacle 
for  monuments  —  the  Campus  Martius. 

Tiberius  did  but  little  for  the  improvement  of  his  capital 
beyond  erecting  a  triumphal  arch,  in  commemoration   of 
the  exploits  of  Germanicus,  on  the  Via  Sacra,  and  estab 
lishing  the  Praetorian  Camp  near  the  Servian  Agger, 
imperial  Caligula    extended    the    imperial    palace,   and 

began    the   Circus    Neronis   in    the    gardens   of 
Agrippa,  near  where  St.  Peter's  now  stands. 

Claudius  constructed  the  two  noble  aqueducts,  the  Aqua 
ciaudian  Claudia  and  Arno  Novis,  —  the  longest  of  all 
aqueduct.  these  magnificent  Roman  monuments,  —  the  lat 
ter  of  which  was  fifty-nine  miles  in  length,  and  some  of 
its  arches  were  one  hundred  and  nine  feet  in  height. 

c> 

Nero  still  further  extended  the  precincts  of  the  imperial 
palace,  and  included  the  Esquiline.  The  great  fire  which 
occurred  in  his  reign,  A.  D.  65,  and  which  lasted  six  days 
and  seven  nights,  destroyed  some  of  the  most  ancient  of 
the  Roman  structures  surrounding  the  Palatine,  and  very 
much  damaged  the  Forum,  to  say  nothing  of  the  statues 
and  treasures  which  perished.  But  the  city  soon  arose 
from  her  ashes  more  beautiful  than  before.  The  streets 
were  laid  out  on  a  more  regular  plan  and  made  wider, 

ing  garden.  On  the  summit  was  a  bronze  statue  of  Augustus  himself,  and 
beneath  the  tumulus  was  a  large  central  hall,  round  which  ran  a  range  of  four 
teen  sepulchral  chambers,  opening  into  this  common  vestibule.  At  the  en 
trance  were  two  Egyptian  obelisks,  fifty  feet  in  height,  and  all  around  was  an 
Those  who  extensive  grove  divided  into  walks  and  terraces.  The  young  Mar- 
were  buried  cellus,  whose  fate  was  bewailed  by  Virgil,  was  its  first  occupant. 
init-  Here  was  placed  Octavia,  the  neglected  wife  of  Antony,  and 

Agrippa,  the  builder  of  the  Parthenon,  and  Livia,  the  beloved  wife  of  Augustus, 
and  beside  them  the  first  imperator  himself.  Here  were  the  poisoned  ashes 
of  the  noble  Germanicus.  borne  from  Syria;  here  the  young  Drusus,  the  pride 
of  the  Ciaudian  family,  and  at  his  side  the  second  Drusus,  the  son  of  Tiberius. 
Here  reposed  the  dust  of  Agrippina,  after  years  of  exile,  by  the  side  of  her  hus 
band,  Germanicus;  here  Nero  and  his  mother,  Agrippina,  and  his  victim, 
Britannicus;  here  Tiberius,  Caligula,  Claudius,  and  all  the  other  Caesars  to 
Nerva.  Then  the  marble  door  was  closed,  for  the  sepulchral  cells  were  full."  — 
Story's  Roba  di  Rvma. 


CHAP,  ill.]  Temple  of  Peace.  117 

the  houses  were  built  lower,  and  brick  was  substituted  for 
wood. 

The  great  work  of  Nero  was  the  construction  of  the 
Imperial  Palace  on  the  site  of  the  buildings  The  imperial 
which  had  been  destroyed  by  the  fire.  He  gave  Palace> 
to  it  the  name  of  Aurea  Domus,  and,  if  we  may  credit 
Suetonius,1  its  richness  and  splendor  surpassed  any  other 
similar  edifice  in  ancient  times.  It  fronted  the  Forum 
and  Capitol,  and  in  its  vestibule  stood  a  colossal  statue  of 
the  emperor,  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high.  The 
palace  was  surrounded  by  three  porticoes,  each  one  thou 
sand  feet  in  length.  The  back  front  of  the  palace  looked 
upon  the  artificial  lake,  afterwards  occupied  by  the  Fla 
vian  Amphitheatre.  Within  the  area  were  gardens  and 
vineyards.  It  was  entirely  overlaid  with  gold,  and  adorned 
with  jewels  and  mother-of-pearl.  The  supper  rooms  were 
vaulted,  and  the  compartments  of  the  ceiling,  inlaid  with 
ivory,  were  made  to  revolve  and  scatter  flowers  upon  the 
banqueters  below.  The  chief  banqueting-room  was  cir 
cular,  and  perpetually  revolved  in  imitation  of  the  motion 
of  the  celestial  bodies.  There  are  scarcely  no  remains  of 
this  extensive  palace,  which  engrossed  so  large  a  part  of 
the  city,  and  which  covered  the  site  of  so  many  famous 
temples  and  palaces,  and  which  exhausted  even  the  impe 
rial  revenues,  great  as  they  were,  even  as  Versailles  taxed 
the  magnificent  resources  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  St.  Peter's 
obliged  the  Popes  to  appeal  to  the  contributions  of  Christ 
endom. 

The  next  great  edifice  which  added  to  the  architectural 
wonders  of  the  city,  was  the  temple  built  by  Vespasian 
after   the    destruction    of  Jerusalem,    which    he  Tempieof 
called  the   Temple   of  Peace.     It  was  adorned  * 
with  the  richest  sculptures  and  paintings  of  Greece,  taken 
from    Nero's    palace,    which   Vespasian    demolished   as   a 
monument  of  insane  extravagance.     In  this  temple  were 

l  Suet.  JVer.,  31. 


118  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Home.         [CHAP.  in. 

deposited  also  the  Jewish  spoils,  except  the  laws  and  veil 
of  the  temple. 

But  the  great  work  of  this  emperor,  and  the  greatest 
Flavian  Am-  architectural  wonder  of  the  world,  was  the  am 
phitheatre,  phitheatre  which  he  built  on  the  ground  covered 
bv  Nero's  lake,  in  the  middle  of  the  city,  between  the 
Velia  and  the  Esquiline.  For  magnitude  it  can  only  be 
compared  with  the  pyramids  of  Egypt,  and  its  remains' are 
the  most  striking  monument  we  have  of  the  material 
TheCoios-  greatness  of  the  Romans.  Though  not  the  first 
of  the  amphitheatres  which  were  erected,  its 
enormous  size  rendered  the  erection  of  subsequent  ones 
unnecessary.  It  was  here  that  emperors,  senators,  gen 
erals,  knights,  and  people,  met  together  to  witness  the 
most  exciting  and  sanguinary  amusements  ever  seen  in 
the  world.  It  was  built  in  the  middle  of  the  city,  with  a 
perfect  recklessness  of  expense,  and  could  accommodate 
eighty-seven  thousand  spectators,  round  an  arena  large 
enough  for  the  combats  of  several  hundred  animals  at  a 
time.  It  was  a  building  of  an  elliptical  form,  founded  on 
eighty  arches,  and  rising  to  the  height  of  one  hundred  and 
forty  feet,  with  four  successive  orders  of  architecture,  six 
hundred  and  twenty  feet  by  five  hundred  and  thirteen, 
inclosing  six  acres.  It  was  built  of  travertine,  faced  with 
marble,  and  decorated  with  statues.  The  eighty  arches 
of  the  lower  story  formed  entrances  for  the  spectators. 
The  seats  were  of  marble  covered  with  cushions.  The 
spectators  were  protected  from  the  sun  and  rain  by  ample 
canopies,  while  the  air  was  refreshed  by  scented  fountains. 
The  nets  designed  as  a  protection  from  the  wild  beasts 
were  made  of  golden  wire.  The  porticoes  were  gilded  ;  the 
circle  which  divided  the  several  ranks  of  spectators  was 
studded  with  a  precious  mosaic  of  beautiful  stones.  The 
arena  was  strewed  with  the  finest  sand,  and  assumed,  at 
different  times,  the  most  different  forms.  Subterranean 
pipes  conveyed  water  into  the  arena.  The  furniture  of 


CHAP.  III.]  Works  of  Trajan.  119 

the  amphitheatre  consisted  of  gold,  silver,  and  amber. 
The  passages  of  ingress  and  egress  were  so  numerous  that 
the  spectators  could  go  in  and  out  without  confusion. 
Only  a  third  part  of  this  wonderful  structure  remains,  and 
whole  palaces  have  been  built  of  its  spoils.1 

Another  great   fire  which   took   place   A.    D.  80,  —  the 
same    in    which    Titus    dedicated    the    Colosseum,  —  and 
which  rao-ed  three   days  and  nights,  destroyed  the  region 
of  the  Circus  Fkminius,  including  some  of  the  finest  tem 
ples   of  the   city,   and   especially  on    the   Capitoline,  and 
created  the  necessity  for  new  improvements.     These  were 
made  by  Domitian,  who  rebuilt  the  Capitol  itself  Rebuilding 
with  greater  splendor  on  its  old  site,  and  erected   Capitol. 
several  new  edifices.    Martial  speaks  with  peculiar  admira 
tion  of  the  Temple  of  the  Gens  Flavia.2     He  also  erected 
that  beautiful  arch   to  his   brother  Titus  which   Archof 
still  remains  one  of  the  finest  monuments  of  the  'J 
imperial  city.     The  Odeum,  a  roofed  theatre,  was  erected 
by  him,  capable  of  holding  twelve  thousand  people.     He 
also  made  many  additions  to  his  palace  on   the  Palatine 
—  so  lofty,  that  Martial,  his  flatterer,  described  it  as  tow 
ering  above  the  clouds,  and  Statius  compared  the  ceiling 
to  the  cope  of  heaven. 

No  great  improvements  were   made   in   the  city  until 
Trajan    commenced    his    beneficent    and    splendid   reign. 
His  greatest  work  was  the  Forum  which  bears  ForumTra. 
his  name,  to  which  allusion  has  been  made,  eleven  Janum- 
hundred  feet  long,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  that  beau 
tiful  pillar,  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight  feet  high,  which 
is  still  standing.     The  Forum,  the  Basilica  Ul-  Ba8ilica 
pia,  and   the    temple    dedicated  by  Hadrian    to  Ulpia 
Trajan,  were  all  parts  of  this  magnificent  structure,  one  of 
the  most  imposing  ever  built,  filled  with  colossal  statues 
and  surrounded  with  colonnades. 

1  Dj-er,  Hist,  of  the  City  of  Home,  p.  245.    Gibbon,  chap.  12.     Montaigne, 
Essays,  iii.  6.     Lipsius,  de  Amphitheatro. 

2  Martial,  Z,.,  ix.  Ep.  4,  35. 


120  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  m. 

None  of  the  Roman  emperors  had  so  great  a  passion 
for  building  as  Hadrian,  who  succeeded  Trajan  A.  n.  117. 
He  erected  a  vast  number  of  edifices,  and  in  his  reign 
Rome  attained  its  greatest  height  of  architectural  splendor. 
The  most  remarkable  among  the  edifices  which  he  built 
Temple  of  was  the  Temple  of  Venus  and  Rome,  facing  on 

Venus  and  •  i         i         ,*i   i 

Rome.  one  side  the  Colosseum,  and  the  other  the  Fo 

rum,  on  the  site  of  the  Atrium,  or  the  golden  house  of 
Nero.     This  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  largest  of  the 

o 

Roman  temples,  erected  on  an  artificial  terrace  five  hun 
dred  feet  long  and  three  hundred  broad.  It  was  surrounded 
with  a  portico  four  hundred  feet  by  two  hundred,  and  an 
other  portico  of  four  hundred  columns  inclosed  the  terrace 
on  which  the  temple  was  built,  the  columns  of  which  were 
forty  feet  in  height.  The  roof  was  covered  with  bronze 
tiles.  Ammianus  Marcellinus  classes  this  magnificent 
temple  with  the  Capitol ine  Temple,  the  Flavian  Ampin- 
theatre,  and  the  Pantheon.  The  next  greatest  work  of 
Mausoleum  Hadrian  was  the  Mausoleum,  which  is  now  con- 
of  Hadrian.  verte(j  mto  ^  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  built  on  a 
platform  of  which  each  side  was  two  hundred  and  fifty- 
three  feet  in  length.  From  the  magnificent  colonnade 
which  supported  the  platform  on  which  it  was  built,  and 
the  successive  stories  supported  by  arches  and  pillars,  be 
tween  which  were  celebrated  statues,  this  circular  edifice, 
one  hundred  and  eighty-eight  feet  in  diameter,  must  have 
been  one  of  the  most  imposing  edifices  in  the  city.  After 
eighteen  centuries,  it  still  remains  a  monument  of  archi 
tectural  strength,  and  it  served  for  one  of  the  strongest 
fortresses  in  Italy  during  the  Middle  Ages.  I  pass  by, 
Hadrian's  without  notice,  the  villa  this  emperor  erected 
at  Tivoli,  the  ruins  of  which  are  among  the  most 
interesting  which  remain  of  that  great  age. 

Under  Hadrian  Rome  attained  its  greatest  splendor, 
and  after  him,  there  was  a  progressive  decline  in  the  arts, 
since  the  public  taste  was  corrupted.  Still  successive  em- 


CHAP,  in.]  Works  of  Caracalla.  121 

perors   continued  to   adorn    the   city.      Marcus   column  of 

Marcus  Au- 

Aurelius,  the  wisest  and  best  of  all  the  emperors,   reiius. 
erected  a  column  similar  to  that  of  Trajan,  to  represent 
his  wars  with  the  Germanic  tribes,  and  this  still  remains  ; 
he  also  built  a  triumphal  arch.     Septimius  Sev-  Arch  of 
erus  erected  the  most  beautiful  of  the  triumphal   scverua. 
arches,  of  which  the  Arc  de  Triumph  in  Paris  is  an  imita 
tion  ;  and  Caracalla  built  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  Baths0f 
Roman  baths,  which,  with  the  porticoes  which   Caracalla- 
surrounded  it,  formed  a  square  of  eleven  hundred  feet  on 
each  side  —  so  enormous  were  these  structures  of  luxury 
and  utility,  designed  not  only  for  the  people  as  a  sanitary 
measure,  but  for  places  of  gymnastic  exercises,  popular 
lectures,  and  the  disputations  of  philosophers.     The  Pan 
theon  was  merely  an  entrance  to  the  baths  of  Agrippa. 
The  baths  of  Trajan  covered  an  area  nearly  as  great.    But 
those    of  Caracalla  surpassed  them   all  in    magnificence. 
Nothing  was  more  striking  to  a  traveler  than  the  painted 
corridors,  the  arched  ceilings,  the  variegated  columns,  the 
elaborate  mosaic  pavements,  the  immortal  statues,  and  the 
exquisite  paintings  which  ornamented  these  places  of  lux 
ury  and  pleasure.     From  amid  their  ruins  have  been  dug 
out  the  most  priceless  of  the  statues  which  ornament  the 
museums    of  Italy  —  the  Farnese   Hercules,  the    colossal 
Flora3,  the  Torso  Farnese,  the  Torso  Belvidere,  the  Atreus 
and  Thyestes,  the  Laocoon,  beside   granite    and  basaltic 
vases  beautifully  polished,  cameos,   bronzes,  medals,  and 
other   valuable    relics    of  ancient   art.     To    supply  these 
baths  new  aqueducts  were  built,  and  the  treasures  of  the 
empire    expended.     Those  subsequently  erected  by  Dio 
cletian    contained    three    thousand    two    hundred   marble 
seats,  and  the  main  hall  now  forms  one  of  the  most  splen 
did  of  the  Roman  churches. 

Such  is  a  brief  view  of  the  progress  of  those  architect 
ural  wonders  which  made  Rome  the  most  magnificent  city 
of  antiquity,  and  perhaps  the  grandest,  in  its  public  mon- 


122  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  Ill 

uments,  of  any  city  in  ancient  or  modern  times.  What 
a  concentration  of  works  of  art  on  the  hills,  and  around 
the  Forum,  and  in  the  Campus  Martins,  and  other  cele- 
Tem  lesand  b rated  quarters !  There  were  temples  rivaling 
Palaces.  those  of  Athens  and  Ephesus  ;  baths  covering 
more  ground  than  the  Pyramids,  surrounded  with  Corin 
thian  columns  and  filled  with  the  choicest  treasures,  ran 
sacked  from  the  cities  of  Greece  and  Asia  ;  palaces  in 
comparison  with  which  the  Tuileries  and  Versailles  are 
small ;  theatres  which  seated  more  people  than  any  pres 
ent  public  buildings  in  Europe  ;  amphitheatres  more  ex 
tensive  and  costly  than  Cologne,  Milan,  and  York  Min 
ster  cathedrals  combined,  and  seating  eight  times  as  many 
people  as  could  be  crowded  into  St.  Peter's  Church ; 
circuses  where,  it  is  said,  three  hundred  and  eighty-five 
thousand  spectators  could  witness  the  games  and  chariot- 
races  at  a  time ;  bridges,  still  standing,  which  have  fur 
nished  models  for  the  most  beautiful  at  Paris  and  London  ; 
aqueducts  carried  over  arches  one  hundred  feet  in 
height,  through  which  flowed  the  surplus  water  of  distant 
lakes ;  drains  of  solid  masonry  in  which  large  boats  could 
float ;  pillars  more  than  one  hundred  feet  in  height,  coated 
with  precious  marbles  or  plates  of  brass,  and  covered  with 
bass-reliefs ;  obelisks  brought  from  Egypt ;  fora  and  ba 
silica  connected  together,  and  extending  more  than  three 
thousand  feet  in  length,  every  part  of  which  was  filled 
with  "  animated  busts  "  of  conquerors,  kings,  and  states 
men,  poets,  publicists,  and  philosophers ;  mausoleums 
greater  and  more  splendid  than  that  Artemisia  erected  to 
the  memory  of  her  husband  ;  triumphal  arches  under 
which  marched  in  stately  procession  the  victorious  armies 
of  the  Eternal  City,  preceded  by  the  spoils  and  trophies  of 
General  conquered  empires,  —  such  was  the  proud  cap 

aspect  of  the  ^  r          '  nil 

city.  ital  —  a    city  of  palaces,  a   residence    of  nobles 

who  were  virtually  kings,  enriched  with  the  accumulated 
treasures  of  ancient  civilization.  Great  were  the  capitals 


CHAP.  III.]  Glories  of  Rome. 

of   Greece    and    Asia,   but    how   preeminent  was    Rome, 
since  all  were  subordinate  to  her.     How  bewildering  and 
bewitching  to  a  traveler  must  have  been  the  varied  won 
ders  of  the  city  !     Go  where  he  would,  his  eye  rested  on 
something  which  was  both  a  study  and  a  marvel.    Let  him 
drive  or  walk  about  the  suburbs,  there  were  villas,  Whata 
tombs,  aqueducts  looking  like  railroads  on  arches,   Wr0ufdeseein 
sculptured  monuments,  and  gardens  of  surpassing  a 
'beauty  and  luxury.     Let  him  approach  the  walls  — they 
were  great  fortifications  extending  twenty-one  miles  in  cir 
cuit,  according  to  the  measurement  of  Ammon  as  adopted 
by  Gibbon,  and  forty-five  miles  according  to  other  author 
ities.    Let  him  enter  any  of  the  various  gates  which  opened 
into  the  city  from  the  roads  which  radiated  to  all  parts  of 
Italy they  were  of  monumental  brass  covered  with  bass- 
reliefs,  on  which  the  victories  of  generals  for  a  thousand 
years   were   commemorated.      Let  him   pass  up  the  Via 
Appia,  or  the  Via  Flaminia,  or  the  Via  Cabra  —  they  were 
lined  with  temples  and  shops  and  palaces.     Let  him  pass 
through  any  of  the  crowded  thoroughfares,  he  saw  houses 
towering  scarcely  ever  less  than  seventy  feet  —  as  tall  as 
those  of  Edinburgh  in  its  oldest  sections.     Let  him  pass 
through  the  varied  quarters  of  the  city,  or  wards  as  we 
should  now  call  them,  he  finds  some  fourteen  regions,  as 
constituted  by  Augustus,  all  marked  by  architectural  monu 
ments,  and  containing,  according  to  Lipsius,  a  population 
larger  than  London  or  Paris,  guarded  and  watched  by  a 
police  of  ten  thousand  armed  men.     Most  of  the  houses 
in  which  this  vast  population  lived,  according  to  Strabo, 
possessed  pipes  which  gave  a  never-failing  supply  of  water 
from  the  rivers  which  flowed  into   the   city  through  the 
aqueducts   and   out   again    through    the    sewers   into   the 
Tiber.     Let  him  walk  up  the  Via  Sacra  —  that  TheVia 
short  street,  scarcely  half  a  mile  in  length  —  and 
he  passes  the  Flavian  Amphitheatre,  the  Temple  of  Venus 
id  Rome,  the  Arch  of  Titus,  the  temples  of  Peace,  of 


an< 


124  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.         [CHAP.  III. 

Vesta,  and  of  Castor,  the  Forum  Romanum,  the  Basilica 
Julia,  the  Arch  of  Severus,  and  the  Temple  of  Saturn, 
and  stands  before  the  majestic  ascent  to  the  Capitoline 
Jupiter,  with  its  magnificent  portico  and  ornamented  ped 
iment,  surpassing  the  fagade  of  any  modern  church.  On 
his  left,  as  he  emerges  from  beneath  the  sculptured  Arch 
of  Titus,  is  the  Palatine  Mount,  nearly  covered  by  the 
palace  of  the  Caesars,  the  magnificent  residences  of  the 
higher  nobility,  and  various  temples,  of  which  that  of 
Apollo  was  the  most  magnificent,  built  by  Augustus  of 
solid  white  marble  from  Luna.  Here  were  the  palaces 
of  Vaccus,  of  Flaccus,  of  Cicero,  of  Catiline,  of  Scaurus, 
of  Antonius,  of  Clodius,  of  Agrippa,  and  of  Hortensius. 
Still  on  his  left,  in  the  valley  between  the  Palatine  and  the 
Capitoline,  though  he  cannot  see  it,  concealed  from  view 
by  the  great  temples  of  Vesta  and  of  Castor,  and  the  still 
greater  edifice  known  as  the  Basilica  Julia,  is  the  quarter 
The  veia-  called  the  Velabrum,  extending  to  the  river, 
where  the  Pons  jiEmilius  crosses  it  —  a  low 
quarter  of  narrow  streets  and  tall  houses  where  the  rabble 
lived  and  died.  On  his  right,  concealed  from  view  by 
the  JEdes  Divi  Julii  and  the  Forum  Romanum,  is  that 
magnificent  series  of  edifices  extending  from  the  Temple 
of  Peace  to  the  Temple  of  Trajan,  including  the  Basilica 
Pauli,  the  Forum  Julii,  the  Forum  August], 
the  Forum  Trajani,  the  Basilica  Ulpia,  more 
than  three  thousand  feet  in  length  and  six  hundred  in 
breadth,  almost  entirely  surrounded  by  porticoes  and  col 
onnades,  and  filled  with  statues  and  pictures  —  on  the 
whole  the  grandest  series  of  public  buildings  clustered 
together  probably  ever  erected,  especially  if  we  take  in 
the  Forum  Romanum  and  the  various  temples  and  basilicas 
which  connected  the  whole  together  —  a  forest  of  marble 
pillars  and  statues.  He  ascends  the  steps  which  lead  from 
the  Temple  of  Concord  to  the  Temple  of  Juno  Moneta 
upon  the  Arx  or  Tarpeian  Rock,  on  the  southwestern  sum- 


CHAP,  in.]  G-lories  of  Rome.  125 

mit  of  the  hill,  itself  one  of  the  most  beautiful  temples  in 
Rome,  erected  by  Camillus  on  the  spot  where  the  house 
of  M.  Manlius  Capitolinus  had  stood.     Here  is  established 
the  Roman    mint.     Near  this    is  the   temple   erected  by 
Augustus  to  Jupiter  Tonans  and  that  built  by  Domitian 
to    Jupiter    Gustos.     But   all    the    sacred    edifices    which 
crown    the   Capitoline   are    subordinate  to  the  Tern  plum 
Jovis  Capitolini,  standing  on  a  platform  of  eight  thousand 
square  feet,  and  built  of  the  richest  materials.     The  por 
tico  which  faces  the  Via  Sacra  consists  of  three  rows  of 
Doric    columns,    the    pediment   is    profusely    ornamented 
with  the  choicest  sculptures,  the  apex  of  the  roof  is  sur 
mounted  by  the  bronze  horses  of  Lysippus,  and  the  roof 
itself  is  covered  with  gilded  tiles.     The  temple  has  three 
separate  cells,  though  covered  with  one  roof;  in  front  of 
each  stand  colossal  statues  of  the  three  deities  to  whom  it 
is  consecrated.     Here  are  preserved  what  was  most  sacred 
in  the  eyes  of  Romans,  and  it  is  itself  the  richest  of  all  the 
temples  of  the  city.     What  a  beautiful  panorama  Yiewfrom 
is  presented  to  the  view  from  the  summit  of  this  of^hTcapi- 
consecrated  hill,  only  mounted  by  a  steep  ascent  toline  H 
of  one  hundred  steps.     To  the  south  is  the  Via  Sacra  ex 
tending  to  the  Colosseum,  and  beyond  it  is  the  Appia  Via, 
lined  with  monuments  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.     Little 
beyond  the  fora  to  the  east  is  the  Carinae,  a  fashionable 
quarter  of  beautiful   shops   and  houses,  and   still  further 
off  are   the   Baths  of  Titus,  extending  from   the   Carina3 
to  the  Esquiline  Mount.     This  hill,  once  a  burial-ground, 
is  now  covered  with  the  house  and  gardens  of  Maecenas, 
and  of  the  poets  whom  he  patronized.     It  is  not  rich  in 
temples,  but  its   gardens  and  groves    are  beautiful.     To 
the    northeast    are   the  Viminal  and  Quirinal   hills,  after 
the    Palatine   the    most    ancient   part    of    the    city  —  the 
seat  of  the  Sabine  population.     Abounding  in  fanes  and 
temples,  the   most    splendid  of  which    is  the  Temple  of 
Quirinus,   erected  originally  to  Romulus  by  Numa,   but 


126  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.         [CHAP,  m, 

rebuilt  by  Augustus,  with  a  double  row  of  columns  on 
each  of  its  sides,  seventy-six  in  number.  Near  by  was 
the  house  of  Atticus,  and  the  gardens  of  Sallust  in  the 
valley  between  the  Quirinal  and  Pincian,  afterwards  the 
property  of  the  emperor.  Far  back  on  the  Quirinal,  near 
the  wall  of  Servius,  were  the  Baths  of  Diocletian,  and  still 
further  to  the  east  the  Pretorian  Camp  established  by 
Tiberius,  and  included  -within  the  wall  of  Aurelian.  To 
Gardens  of  tne  northeast  the  eye  lights  on  the  Pincian  Hill 
Lucuiius.  covered  by  the  gardens  of  Lucullus,  to  possess 
which  Messalina  caused  the  death  of  Valerius  Asiaticus, 
into  whose  possession  they  had  fallen.  In  the  valley  which 
lay  between  the  fora  and  the  Quirinal  was  the  celebrated 
Subura,  —  the  quarter  of  shops,  markets,  and 

The  Subura.  / 

artificers, — a  busy,  noisy,  vulgar  section,  not 
beautiful,  but  full  of  life  and  enterprise  and  wickedness. 
The  eye  now  turns  to  the  north,  and  the  whole  length 
of  the  Via  Flaminia  is  exposed  to  view,  extending  from 
the  Capitoline  to  the  Flaminian  gate,  perfectly  straight, 
the  finest  street  in  Rome,  and  parallel  to  the  modern 
Corso.  It  is  the  great  highway  to  the  north  of  Italy. 
Monuments  and  temples  and  palaces  line  this  celebrated 
street.  It  is  spanned  by  the  triumphal  arches  of  Claudius 
and  Marcus  Aurelius.  To  the  west  of  it  is  the  Campus 
Martins,  with  its  innumerable  objects  of  interest, — the 
Baths  of  Agrippa,  the  Pantheon,  the  Thermae  Alexan 
drine,  the  Column  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  the  Mauso 
leum  of  Augustus.  Beneath  the  Capitoline  on  the  west, 
toward  the  river,  is  the  Circus  Flaminius,  the  Portico  of 
Octavius,  the  Theatre  of  Balbus,  and  the  Theatre  of 
Pompey,  where  forty  thousand  spectators  were  accommo 
dated.  Stretching  beyond  the  Thermae  Alexandrinas,  near 
the  Pantheon,  is  the  magnificent  bridge  which  crosses  the 
Tiber,  built  by  Hadrian  when  he  founded  his  Mausoleum, 
to  which  it  leads,  still  standing  under  the  name  of  the 
Ponte  S.  Angelo.  The  eye  takes  in  eight  or  nine  bridges 


CHAP,  in.]  Glories  of  Rome.  127 

over  the  Tiber,  some  of  wood,  but  generally  of  stone,  of 
beautiful  masonry,  and  crowned  with  statues.  At  the  foot 
of  the  Capitoline,  toward  the  southwest,  are  the  Portico 
of  Octavius  and  the  Theatre  of  Marcellus,  near  the  Pons 
Cestius.  Still  further  southwest,  between  the  Capitoline 
and  the  Aventine,  in  a  low  valley,  are  the  Velabrum  and 
the  Forum  Boarium,  once  a  marsh,  but  now  rich  in  tem 
ples  and  monuments,  among  which  are  those  of  Hercules 
Fortuna  and  Mater  Matuta.  There  are  no  less  than  four 
temples  consecrated  to  Hercules  in  the  Forum  Boarium, 
one  of  the  most  celebrated  places  in  Rome,  devoted  to  trade 
and  commerce.  Beyond  still,  in  the  valley  between  the 
Palatine  and  the  Aventine,  is  the  great  Circus  Circus 
Maximus,  founded  by  the  early  Tarquin.  It  is  Maximua- 
the  largest  open  space  inclosed  by  walls  and  porticoes  in 
the  city.  It  seats  three  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand 
people.  How  vast  a  city,  which  can  spare  nearly  four 
hundred  thousand  of  its  population  to  see  the  chariot- 
races  !  Beyond  is  the  Aventine  itself.  This  also  is  rich 
in  legendary  monuments  and  in  the  palaces  of  the  great, 
though  originally  a  plebeian  quarter.  Here  dwelt  Trajan, 
before  he  was  emperor,  and  Ennius  the  poet,  and  Paula, 
the  friend  of  St.  Jerome.  Beneath  the  Aventine,  and  a 
little  south  of  the  Circus  Maximus,  west  of  the  Appian 
Way,  are  the  great  baths  of  Caracalla,  the  ruins  of  which, 
next  to  those  of  the  Colosseum,  made  on  my  mind  the 
strongest  impression  of  any  thing  that  pertains  to  antiquity, 
though  these  were  not  so  large  as  those  of  Diocletian. 
The  view  south  takes  in  the  Cselian  Hill,  the  view  of 
ancient  residence  of  Tullus  Hostilius.  The  theTapTtS. 
beautiful  Temple  of  Divus  Claudius,  the  Arch  of  Dola- 
bella,  the  Macellum  Magnum,  —  a  market  founded  by 
Nero, — the  Castra  Peregrina,  the  Temple  of  Isis,  the  Cam 
pus  Martialis,  are  among  the  most  conspicuous  objects  of 
interest.  This  hill  is  the  residence  of  manv  distinguished 
Romans.  It  is  covered  with  palaces.  Among  them  is  the 


128  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.         [CHAP.  in. 

house  of  Claudius  Centumalus  —  so  high,  that  the  augurs 
command  him  to  lower  it.  It  towers  ten  or  twelve  stories 
into  the  air.  Scarcely  inferior  in  size  is  the  house  of  Ma- 
mura,  whose  splendor  is  described  by  Pliny.  Here  also  is 
the  house  of  Annius  Verus,  the  father  of  Marcus  Aure- 
lius,  surrounded  with  gardens.  But  grander  than  any  of 
these  palaces  is  that  of  Plautius  Lateranus,  the  egregice 
Lateranorum  cedes^  which  became  imperial  property  in  the 
time  of  Nero,  and  on  whose  site  stands  the  basilica  of  St. 
John  Lateran,  —  the  gift  of  Constantino  to  the  bishop  of 
Rome,  —  one  of  the  most  ancient  of  the  Christian 
churches,  in  which,  for  fifteen  hundred  years,  daily  ser 
vices  have  been  performed. 

Such  are  the  objects  of  interest  and  grandeur  which 
strike  the  eye  as  it  is  turned  toward  the  various  quarters 
of  the  city.  But  these  are  only  the  more  important.  The 
seven  hills,  appearing  considerably  higher  than  at  the  pres 
ent  day,  as  the  valleys  are  raised  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
above  their  ancient  level,  are  covered  with  temples,  pal 
aces,  and  gardens  ;  the  valleys  are  densely  crowded  with 
shops,  houses,  baths,  and  theatres.  The  houses  rise  fre 
quently  to  the  tenth  platform  or  story.  The  suburban 
population,  beyond  the  walls,  is  probably  greater  than  that 
within.  The  citv,  virtually,  contains  between 

Population.  .jjj  *  1  T  •       • 

three  and  four  millions  of  people.  Lipsius  esti 
mates  four  millions  as  the  population,  including  slaves, 
women,  children,  and  strangers.  Though  this  estimate  is 
regarded  as  too  large  by  iMerivale  and  others,  yet  how 
enormous  must  have  been  the  number  of  the  people  when 
there  were  nine  thousand  and  twenty-five  baths,  and  when 
those  of  Diocletian  could  accommodate  three  thousand  two 
hundred  people  at  a  time.  The  wooden  theatre  of  Scaurus 
contained  eighty  thousand  seats ;  that  of  Marcellus  would 
seat  twenty  thousand  ;  the  Colosseum  would  seat  eighty- 
seven  thousand,  and  give  standing  space  for  twenty-two 
thousand  more.  The  Circus  Maximus  would  hold  three 


CHAP,  in.i  Population  of  Rome.  129 

hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand  spectators.  If  only  one 
person  out  of  four  of  the  free  population  witnessed  the 
games  and  spectacles  at  a  time,  we  thus  must  have  four 
millions  of  people  altogether  in  the  city.  The  Aurelian 
walls  are  now  only  thirteen  miles  in  circumference,  but 
Lipsius  estimates  the  circumference  at  forty-five  miles,  and 
Vopiscus  nearly  fifty.  The  diameter  of  the  city  must  have 
been  eleven  miles,  since  Strabo  tells  us  that  the  actual  limit 
of  Rome  was  at  a  place  between  the  fifth  and  sixth  mile 
stone  from  the  column  of  Trajan  in  the  Forum  —  the  cen 
tral  and  most  conspicuous  object  in  the  city  except  the 
capitol.1  Even  in  the  sixth  century,  after  Rome  had  been 
sacked  and  plundered  by  Goths  and  Vandals,  Zacharia,  a 
traveler,  asserts  that  there  were  three  hundred  and  eighty- 
four  spacious  streets,  eighty  golden  statues  of  the  gods  ; 
sixty-six  large  ivory  statues  of  the  gods  ;  forty-six  thousand 
six  hundred  and  three  houses;  seventeen  thou-  Numberof 
sand  and  ninety-seven  palaces  ;  thirteen  thousand  houses- 
and  fifty-two  fountains ;  three  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  eighty-five  bronze  statues  of  emperors  and  generals  ; 
twenty-two  great  horses  in  bronze  ;  two  colossi ;  two  spiral 
columns  ;  thirty-one  theatres  ;  eleven  amphitheatres  ;  nine 
thousand  and  twenty-six  baths  ;  two  thousand  three  hun 
dred  shops  of  perfumers ;  two  thousand  and  ninety-one 
prisons.2  This  seems  to  be  incredible.  "  But,"  says  Story, 
"  Augustus  divided  the  city  into  eighteen  regions  :  each 
region  contained  twenty-two  vici ;  each  vicus  contained 
about  two  hundred  and  thirty  dwelling-houses,  so  that 
there  must  have  been  seventy-five  thousand  houses ;  of 
these  houses,  seventeen  thousand  were  palaces,  or  domus. 
If  each  contained  two  hundred  persons,  (and  four  hundred 
slaves  were  maintained  in  a  single  palace.)  reckoning 
family,  freedmen,  and  slaves,  we  have  three  millions  four 
hundred  thousand  people,  and  supposing  the  remaining 
fifty-eight  thousand  houses  to  have  contained  twenty-five 

i  Strabo,  lib.  v.  ch.  3.  2  St.  Ampere,  Hist.  Romaine  a  Rome. 

9 


130  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP,  in 

persons  each,  we  have  in  them  one  million  four  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand,  which  would  give  an  entire  population 
of  four  millions  eight  hundred  and  fifty  thousand."  If  Mr. 
Merivale's  estimate  of  seven  hundred  thousand  is  correct, 
then  the  Colosseum  would  hold  nearly  one  in  six  of  the 
whole  population,  which  is  incredible.  Indeed,  it  is  prob 
able  that  even  four  millions  was  under  than  above  the  true 
estimate,  which  would  make  Rome  the  most  populous  city 
ever  seen  upon  our  globe.  Nor  is  it  extravagant  to  sup 
pose  this.  The  city  numbered,  according  to  the  census, 
eighty  thousand  people  in  the  year  197  ;  and  in  683  it  had 
risen  to  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  Is  it  strange  it 
should  have  numbered  four  millions  in  the  time  of  Augus 
tus,  or  even  six  millions  in  the  time  of  Aurelian,  when  we 
bear  in  mind  that  it  was  the  political  and  social  centre  of  a 
rast  empire,  and  that  empire  the  world  ?  If  London  con 
tains  three  millions  at  the  present  day,  and  Paris  two  mill 
ions,  why  should  not  a  capital  which  had  no  rival,  and 
which  controlled  at  least  one  hundred  and  twenty  millions 
of  people  ?  So  that  Pliny  was  not  probably  wrong  when 
he  said,  "  Si  quis  altitudinem  tectoruw  addat,  dignam  pro- 
fecto  cestimationem  concipiat,  fateatur  qui  nullius  urbis  mag- 
nitudinem  potuisse  ei  comparare."  "  If  any  one  considers 
the  height  of  the  roofs,  so  as  to  form  a  just  estimate,  he 
will  confess  that  no  city  could  be  compared  with  it  for 
magnitude." 

Modern  writers,  taking  London  and  Paris  for  their  meas 
ure  of  material  civilization,  seem  unwilling  to  admit  that 
Rome  could  have  reached  such  a  pitch  of  glory  and  wealth 
and  power.  To  him  who  stands  within  the  narrow  limits 
of  the  Forum,  as  it  now  appears,  it  seems  incredible  that 
it  could  have  been  the  centre  of  a  much  larger  city  than 
Europe  can  now  boast  of.  Grave  historians  are  loth  to 
compromise  their  dignity  and  character  for  truth,  by  ad 
mitting  statements  which  seem,  to  men  of  limited  views, 
to  be  fabulous,  and  which  transcend  modern  experience. 


CHAP,  in.]  Ttie   Games.  131 

But  we  should  remember  that  most  of  the  monuments 
of  ancient  Rome  have  entirely  disappeared.  Nothing  re 
mains  of  the  Palace  of  the  Caesars,  which  nearly  covered 
the  Palatine  Hill ;  little  of  the  fora  which,  connected  to 
gether,  covered  a  space  twice  as  large  as  that  inclosed  by 
the  palaces  of  the  Louvre  and  Tuileries  with  all  their 
galleries  and  courts  ;  almost  nothing  of  the  glories  of  the 
Capitoline  Hill  ;  and  little  comparatively  of  those  Thermae 

which  were   a   mile  in  circuit.     But  what  does   The  monu 
ments  which 
remain  attests  an    unparalleled   grandeur — the   survive. 

broken  pillars  of  the  Forum  ;  the  lofty  columns  of  Trajan 
and  Marcus  Aurelius ;  the  Pantheon,  lifting  its  spacious 
dome  two  hundred  feet  into  the  air ;  the  mere  vestibule 
of  the  Baths  of  Agrippa  ;  the  triumphal  arches  of  Titus  and 
Trajan  and  Constantine  ;  the  bridges  which  span  the  Ti 
ber  ;  the  aqueducts  which  cross  the  Campagna  ;  the  Cloaca 
Maxima,  which  drained  the  marshes  and  lakes  of  the  in 
fant  city  ;  but  above  all,  the  Colosseum.  What  glory  and 
shame  are  associated  with  that  single  edifice  !  That  alone, 
if  nothing  else  remained  of  Pagan  antiquity,  would  indicate 
a  grandeur  and  a  folly  such  as  cannot  now  be  seen  on 
earth.  It  reveals  a  wonderful  skill  in  masonry,  and  great 
architectural  strength  ;  it  shows  the  wealth  and  resources 
of  rulers  who  must  have  had  the  treasures  of  the  world 
at  their  command  ;  it  indicates  an  enormous  population, 
since  it  would  seat  all  the  male  adults  of  the  city  of  New 
York  ;  it  shows  the  restless  passions  of  the  people  for  ex 
citement,  and  the  necessity  on  the  part  of  government  of 
yielding  to  this  taste.  What  leisure  and  indolence  marked 
a  city  which  could  afford  to  give  up  so  much  time  to  the 
demoralizing  sports  !  What  facilities  for  transportation 
were  afforded,  when  so  many  wild  beasts  could  be  brought 
to  the  capital  from  the  central  parts  of  Africa  without  call 
ing  out  unusual  comment !  How  imperious  a  populace 
that  compels  the  government  to  provide  such  Gamesof 
expensive  pleasures  !  The  games  of  Titus,  on  Tlfcu8' 


132  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

its  dedication,  last  one  hundred  days,  and  five  thousand 
wild  beasts  are  slaughtered  in  the  arena.  The  number  of 
the  gladiators  who  fought  surpasses  belief.  At  the  triumph 
of  Trajan  over  the  Dacians,  ten  thousand  gladiators  were 
exhibited,  and  the  emperor  himself  presides  under  a  gilded 
canopy,  surrounded  by  thousands  of  his  lords.  Under 
neath  the  arena,  strewed  with  yellow  sand  and  sawdust,  is 
a  solid  pavement  so  closely  cemented  that  it  can  be  turned 
into  an  artificial  lake  on  which  naval  battles  are  fought. 
But  it  is  the  conflict  of  gladiators  which  most  deeply 
stimulates  the  passions  of  the  people.  The  benches  are 
crowded  with  eager  spectators,  and  the  voices  of  one  hun 
dred  thousand  are  raised  in  triumph  or  rage  as  the  miser 
able  victims  sink  exhausted  in  the  bloody  sport. 

But  it  is  not  the  gladiatorial  sports  of  the  amphitheatre 
which  most  strikingly  attest  the  greatness  and  splendor  of 
the  city ;  nor  the  palaces,  in  which  as  many  as  four  hun 
dred  slaves  are  sometimes  maintained  as  domestic  ser 
vants,  twelve  hundred  in  number  according  to  the  lowest 
estimate,  but  probably  five  times  as  numerous,  since  every 
senator,  every  knight,  and  every  rich  man  was  proud  to 
possess  a  residence  which  would  attract  attention  ;  nor  the 
temples,  which  numbered  four  hundred  and  twenty-four, 
most  of  which  were  of  marble,  filled  with  statues,  the  con 
tributions  of  ages,  and  surrounded  with  groves ;  nor  the 
fora  and  basilicas,  with  their  porticoes,  statues,  and  pict 
ures,  covering  more  space  than  any  cluster  of  public  build 
ings  in  Europe,  a  mile  and  a  half  in  circuit ;  nor  the  baths, 
nearly  as  large,  still  more  completely  filled  with  works  of 
art ;  nor  the  Circus  Maximus,  where  more  people  wit 
nessed  the  chariot  races  at  a  time  than  are  nightly  assem 
bled  in  all  the  places  of  public  amusement  in  Paris, 
London,  and  New  York  combined  —  more  than  could  be 
seated  in  all  the  cathedrals  of  England  and  France  ;  it  is 
not  these  which  most  impressively  make  us  feel  that  Rome 
was  the  mistress  of  the  world  and  the  centre  of  all  civiliza- 


CHAP,  in.]  Triumph  of  Aurelian.  133 

tion.  The  triumphal  processions  of  the  conquering  gen 
erals  were  still  more  exciting  to  behold,  for  these  appeal 
more  directly  to  the  imagination,  and  excite  those  passions 
which  urged  the  Romans  to  a  career  of  conquest  Roman 
from  generation  to  generation.  No  military  re-  t: 
view  of  modern  times  equaled  those  gorgeous  triumphs, 
even  as  no  scenic  performance  compares  with  the  gladia 
torial  shows.  The  sun  has  never  shone  upon  any  human 
assemblage  so  magnificent  and  so  grand,  so  imposing  and 
yet  so  guilty.  And  we  recall  the  picture  of  it  with  solemn 
awe  as  it  moves  along  the  Via  Sacra  and  ascends  the  Capi- 
toline  Hill,  or  passes  through  the  theatres  of  Pompey  and 
Marcellus,  that  all  the  people  might  witness  the  brilliant 
spectacle.  Not  only  were  displayed  the  spoils  of  con 
quered  kingdoms,  and  the  triumphal  cars  of  generals,  but 
the  whole  military  strength  of  the  capital.  An  army  of  one 
hundred  thousand  men,  flushed  with  victory,  follows  the 
gorgeous  procession  of  nobles  and  princes.  The  triumph 
of  Aurelian,  on  his  return  from  the  East,  gives  us  some 
idea  of  the  grandeur  of  that  ovation  to  conquerors.  "  The 
pomp  was  opened  by  twenty  elephants,  four  royal  tigers, 
and  two  hundred  of  the  most  curious  animals  from  every 
climate,  north,  south,  east,  and  west.  These  were  fol 
lowed  by  one  thousand  six  hundred  gladiators,  devoted  to 
the  cruel  amusement  of  the  amphitheatre.  Then  were 
displayed  the  arms  and  ensigns  of  conquered  nations,  the 
plate  and  wardrobe  of  the  Syrian  queen.  Then  ambassadors 
from  .all  parts  of  the  earth  —  all  remarkable  in  their  rich 
dresses,  with  their  crowns  and  offerings.  Then  the  captives 
taken  in  the  various  wars,  Goths,  Vandals,  Samaritans,  Ale- 
manni,  Franks,  Gauls,  Syrians,  and  Egyptians,  each  marked 
by  their  national  costume.  Then  the  Queen  of  the  East, 
the  beautiful  Zenobia,  confined  by  fetters  of  gold,  and 
fainting  under  the  weight  of  jewels,  preceding  the  beautiful 
chariot  in  which  she  had  hoped  to  enter  the  gates  of  Rome. 
Then  the  chariot  of  the  Persian  king.  Then  the  triumphal 


134  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP,  ill 

car  of  Aurelian  himself,  drawn  by  elephants.  Finally  the 
most  illustrious  of  the  Senate,  the  people,  and  the  army 
closed  the  solemn  procession,  amid  the  acclamations  of  the 
people,  and  the  sound  of  musical  instruments.  It  took 
from  dawn  of  day  until  the  ninth  hour  for  the  procession 
to  pass  to  the  capitol,  and  the  festival  was  protracted  by 
theatrical  representations,  the  games  of  the  circus,  the 
hunting  of  wild  beasts,  combats  of  gladiators,  and  naval 
engagements.  Liberal  donations  were  presented  to  the 
army,  and  a  portion  of  the  spoils  dedicated  to  the  gods. 
All  the  temples  glittered  with  the  offerings  of  ostentatious 
piety,  and  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  received  fifteen  thousand 
pounds  of  gold.  The  soldiers  and  the  citizens  were  then 
surfeited  with  meat  and  wine.  The  disbanded  soldiery 
thronged  the  amphitheatre,  and  yelled  their  fiendish  ap 
plause  at  the  infernal  games,  —  "  the  gorged  robbers  of  the 
world,  drunk  in  a  festival  of  hell,"1  —  a  representation  of 
war  as  terrible  as  war  itself,  compensating  to  the  Roman 
people  the  massacres  which  they  could  not  see. 

If  any  thing  more  were  wanted  to  give  us  an  idea  of 
Roman  magnificence,  we  would  turn  our  eyes  from  public 
monuments,  demoralizing  games,  and  grand  processions ; 
we  would  forget  the  statues  in  brass  and  marble,  which 
outnumbered  the  living  inhabitants,  so  numerous  that  one 
hundred  thousand  have  been  recovered  and  still  embellish 
Italy,  and  would  descend  into  the  lower  sphere  of  material 
life — to  those  things  which  attest  luxury  and  taste  —  to 
ornaments,  dresses,  sumptuous  living,  and  rich  furniture. 
The  art  of  working  metals  and  cutting  precious  stones  sur 
passed  any  thing  known  at  the  present  day.  In  the  deco 
ration  of  houses,  in  social  entertainments,  in  cookery,  the 
Romans  were  remarkable.  The  mosaics,  signet  rings,  cam 
eos,  bracelets,  bronzes,  chains,  vases,  couches,  banqueting 
tables,  lamps,  chariots,  colored  glass,  gildings,  mirrors,  mat 
tresses,  cosmetics,  perfumes,  hair  dyes,  silk  robes,  potteries, 

i  Henry  Giles. 


CHAP,  in.]  Grandeur  of  Rome.  135 

all  attest  great  elegance  and  beauty.  The  tables  of 
thuga  root  and  Delian  bronze  were  as  expensive  as  the 
sideboards  of  Spanish  walnut,  so  much  admired  in  the 
great  exhibition  at  London.  Wood  and  ivory  were  carved 
as  exquisitely  as  in  Japan  and  China.  Mirrors  were  made 
of  polished  silver.  Glass-cutters  could  imitate  the  colors 
of  precious  stones  so  well,  that  the  Portland' vase,  from 
the  tomb  of  Alexander  Severus,  was  long  considered  as  a 
genuine  sardonix.  Brass  could  be  hardened  so  as  to  cut 
stone.  The  palace  of  Nero  glittered  with  gold  and  jewels. 
Perfumes  and  flowers  were  showered  from,  ivory  ceilings. 
The  halls  of  Heliogabulus  were  hung  with  cloth  of  gold, 
enriched  with  jewels.  His  beds  were  silver,  and  his  tables 
of  gold.  Tiberius  gave  a  million  of  sesterces  for  a  picture 
for  his  bed-room.  A  banquet  dish  of  Drusillus  weighed 
five  hundred  pounds  of  silver.  The  cups  of  Drusus  were 
of  gold.  Tunics  were  embroidered  with  the  figures  of 
various  animals.  Sandals  were  garnished  with  precious 
stones.  Paulina  wore  jewels,  when  she  paid  visits,  valued 
at  $800,000.  Drinking-cups  were  engraved  with  scenes 
from  the  poets.  Libraries  were  adorned  with  busts,  and 
presses  of  rare  woods.  Sofas  were  inlaid  with  tortoise-shell, 
and  covered  with  gorgeous  purple.  The  Roman  grandees 
rode  in  gilded  chariots,  bathed  in  marble  baths,  dined  from 
golden  plate,  drank  from  crystal  cups,  slept  on  beds  of 
down,  reclined  on  luxurious  couches,  wore  embroidered 
robes,  and  were  adorned  with  precious  stones.  They  ran 
sacked  the  earth  and  the  seas  for  rare  dishes  for  their 
banquets,  and  ornamented  their  houses  with  carpets  from 
Babylon,  onyx  cups  from  Bythinia,  marbles  from  Nu- 
midia,  bronzes  from  Corinth,  statues  from  Athens  —  what 
ever,  in  short,  was  precious  or  rare  or  curious  in  the  most 
distant  countries.  The  luxuries  of  the  bath  almost  exceed 
belief,  and  on  the  walls  were  magnificent  frescoes  and 
paintings,  exhibiting  an  inexhaustible  productiveness  in 
landscape  and  mythological  scenes,  executed  in  lively 


136  The   Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP,  in 

colors.  From  the  praises  of  Cicero,  Seneca,  and  Pliny, 
and  other  great  critics,  we  have  a  right  to  infer  that  paint 
ing  was  as  much  prized  as  statuary,  and  equaled  it  in 
artistic  excellence,  although  so  little  remains  of  antiquity 
from  which  we  can  form  an  enlightened  judgment.  We 
certainly  infer  from  designs  on  vases  great  skill  in  draw 
ing,  and  from  the  excavations  of  Pompeii,  the  most  beauti 
ful  colors.  The  walls  of  the  great  hall  of  the  baths  of 
Titus  represent  flowers,  birds,  and  animals,  drawn  with 
wonderful  accuracy.  In  the  long  corridor  of  these  baths 
the  ceiling  is  painted  with  colors  which  are  still  fresh,  and 
Raphael  is  said  to  have  studied  the  frescoes  with  admira 
tion,  even  as  Michael  Angelo  found  in  the  Pantheon  a 
model  for  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's,  and  in  the  statues  which 
were  dug  up  from  the  ruins  of  the  baths,  studies  for  his 
own  immortal  masterpieces. 

Thus  every  thing  which  gilds  the  material  wonders  of 
our  day  with  glory  and  splendor,  also  marked  the  old 
capitol  of  the  world.  That  which  is  most  prized  by  us, 
distinguished  to  an  eminent  degree  the  Roman  grandees. 
In  an  architectural  point  of  view  no  modern  city  approaches 
Rome.  It  contained  more  statues  than  all  the  Museums 
of  Europe.  It  had  every  thing  which  we  have  except 
machinery.  It  surpassed  every  modern  capitol  in  popula 
tion.  It  was  richer  than  any  modern  city,  since  the  peo 
ple  were  not  obliged  to  toil  for  their  daily  bread.  The 
poor  were  fed  by  the  government,  and  had  time  and 
leisure  for  the  luxuries  of  the  bath  and  the  excitements 
of  the  amphitheatre.  The  citizen  nobles  owned  whole 
provinces.  Even  Paula  could  call  a  whole  city  her  own. 
Rich  senators,  in  some  cases,  were  the  proprietors  of 
twenty  thousand  slaves.  Their  incomes  were  known  to 
be  <£1000  sterling  a  day,  when  gold  and  silver  were  worth 
four  times  as  much  as  at  the  present  day.  Rome  was 
made  up  of  these  citizen  kings  and  their  dependants,  for 
most  of  the  senators  had  been,  at  some  time,  governors  of 


CHAP,  in.]  Permanence  of  Rome.  137 

provinces,  which  they  rifled  and  robbed.     In  Rome  were 
accumulated  the   choicest    treasures   of   the   world.     Her 
hills  were  covered  with  the  palaces  of  the  proudest  nobles 
that  ever  walked  the  earth.     Rome  was  the  centre,  and 
the  glory,  and  the  pride  of  all  the   nations   of  antiquity. 
It  seamed  impossible  that  such  a  city  could  ever  be  taken 
by  enemies,   or  fall  into  decay.     "  Quando  cadet  Roma 
cadet  et  mundus"  said  the  admiring  Saxons  three  hun 
dred  years  after  the  injuries  inflicted  by  Goths  and  Van 
dals.     Nor  has  Rome  died.     Never  has  she  entirely  passed 
into  the  hands  of  her  enemies.     A  hundred  times  on  the 
verae   of  annihilation,   she   was    never  annihilated.     She 
never  accepted  the  stranger's  yoke  —  she  never  was  per 
manently  subjected  to  the  barbarian.     She  continued  to  be 
Roman  'after   the   imperial   presence  had   departed.     She 
was  Roman  when  fires,  and  inundations,  and  pestilence, 
and  famine,  and  barbaric  soldiers  desolated  the  city.     She 
was  Roman  when  the  Pope  held  Christendom  in  a  base 
subserviency.     She  was  Roman  when  Rienzi  attempted  to 
revive  the  virtues  of  the  heroic  ages,  and  when  Michael 
Angelo   restored   the  wonders  of  Apollodorus.     And  Ro 
man  that  city  will  remain,  whether  as  the  home  of  princes, 
or  the  future  capitol  of  the  kings  of  Italy,  or  the  resort  of 
travelers,  or  the  school  of  artists,  or  the  seat  of  a  spiritual 
despotism  which  gains  strength  as  political  and  temporal 
power  passes  away  before  the  ideas  of  the  new  races  and 
the  new  civilization. 

The  most  valuable  book  of  reference  for  this  chapter  is  the  late  work 
of  Dr.  Dyer,  author  of  the  article  "  Roma"  in  Smith's  Dictionary.  In 
fact  this  chapter  is  a  mere  compilation  of  that  elaborate  work,  ("  His 
tory  of  the  City  of  Rome,")  which  may  be  said  to  be  exhaustive. 
Mabillon  and  Montfaucon  —  two  French  Benedictines  —  rendered 
great  service  in  the  seventeenth  century  to  Roman  topography.  Ed 
ward  Burton  and  Richard  Burgess  wrote  descriptions  of  Roman 
antiquities,  now  superseded  by  the  writings  of  those  great  German 
scholars,  who  made  a  new  epoch  of  Roman  topography  —  Nicbuhr, 


138  The    Wonders  of  Ancient  Rome.        [CHAP.  in. 

Bunsen,  Plainer,  Gerhard,  and  Kartell,  who,  however,  have  succeeded 
in  throwing  doubt  on  many  things  supposed  to  be  established.  One 
of  the  most  learned  treatises  on  ancient  Rome  is  the  celebrated  Hand- 
Inch  of  Becker.  Stephano  Piale  and  Luigi  Canina  are  the  most 
approved  of  the  modern  Italian  antiquarians. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ART    IN    THE    ROMAN    EMPIRE. 

IN  my  enumeration  of  the  external  glories  of  the 
Roman  world,  I  only  attempted  to  glance  at  those  wonders 
which  were  calculated  to  strike  a  traveler  with  admiration. 
Among  these  were  the  great  developments  of  Art,  dis 
played  in  architecture,  in  statuary,  and  in  painting.  But 
I  only  enumerated  the  more  remarkable  objects  of  attrac 
tion  ;  I  did  not  attempt  to  show  the  genius  displayed  in 
them.  But  ancient  art,  as  a  proud  creation  of  the  genius 
of  man,  demands  additional  notice.  We  wish  to  know  to 
what  heights  the  Romans  soared  in  that  great  realm  of 
beauty  and  grace  and  majesty. 

The  aesthetic  glories  of  art  are  among  the  grandest 
triumphs  of  civilization,  and  attest  as  well  as  demand  no 
ordinary  force  of  genius.  Art  claims  to  be  creative,  and  to 
be  based  on  eternal  principles  of  beauty,  and  artists  in  all 
ages  have  claimed  a  proud  niche  in  the  temple  of  fame. 
They  rank  with  poets  and  musicians,  and  even  philoso 
phers  and  historians,  in  the  world's  regard.  They  are 
favored  sons  of  inspiration,  urged  to  their  work  by  ideal 
conceptions  of  the  beautiful  and  the  true.  Their  produc 
tions  are  material,  but  the  spirit  which  led  to  their  creation 
is  ©f  the  soul  and  mind.  Imagination  is  tasked  to  the 
uttermost  to  portray  sentiments  and  passions.  The  bust  is 
"  animated,"  and  the  temple,  though  built  of  marble,  and 
by  man,  is  called  "  religious."  Art  appeals  to  every  cul 
tivated  mind,  and  excites  poetic  feelings.  It  is  impressive 
even  to  every  order,  class,  and  condition  of  men,  not,  per- 


140  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

haps,  in  its  severest  forms,  since  the  taste  must  be  culti 
vated  to  appreciate  its  higher  beauties,  but  to  a  certain 
extent.  The  pyramids  and  the  granite  image  temples  of 
origin  and  Egypt  must  have  filled  even  the  rude  people 

principles  of         f J  I  ,  , 

art.  with  a    certain    awe    and   wonder,  even   as   the 

majestic  cathedrals  of  mediaeval  Europe,  with  their  impos 
ing  pomps,  stimulated  the  poetic  conceptions  of  the  Gothic 
nations.  Art  is  popular.  The  rude  savage  admires  a 
gaudy  picture  even  as  the  cultivated  Leo  X.  or  Cardinal 
Mazanni  bent  in  admiration  before  the  great  creations  of 
Raphael  or  Domenichino.  Art  appeals  to  the  senses  as 
well  as  to  the  intellect  and  the  heart,  and  is  capable  of 
inspiring  the  passions  as  well  as  the  loftiest  emotions  and 
sentiments.  The  Grecian  mind  was  trained  to  the  con 
templation  of  aesthetic  beauty  in  temples,  in  statues,  and  in 
pictures ;  and  the  great  artist  was  rewarded  with  honors 
and  material  gains.  The  love  of  art  is  easier  kindled  than 
the  love  of  literary  excellence,  and  is  more  generally 
diffused.  It  is  coeval  with  songs  and  epic  poetry.  Before 
Socrates  or  Plato  speculated  on  the  great  certitudes  of 
philosophy,  temples  and  statues  were  the  pride  and  boast 
of  their  countrymen.  And  as  the  taste  for  art  precedes 
the  taste  for  letters,  so  it  survives,  when  the  literature  has 
lost  its  life  and  freshness.  The  luxurious  citizens  of  Rome 
ornamented  their  baths  and  palaces  with  exquisite  pictures 
and  statues  long  after  genius  ceased  to  soar  to  the  heights 
of  philosophy  and  poetry.  The  proudest  triumphs  of 
genius  are  in  a  realm  which  art  can  never  approach,  yet 
the  wonders  of  art  are  still  among  the  great  triumphs  of 
civilization.  Zeuxis  or  Praxiteles  may  not  have  equaled 
Homer  or  Plato  in  profundity  of  genius,  but  it  was  only  a 
great  age  which  could  have  produced  a  Zeuxis  or  Praxit 
eles.  I  cannot  place  Raphael  on  so  exalted  a  pinnacle  as 
Fascinations  Luther,  or  Bacon,  or  Newton,  and  yet  his  fame 
will  last  as  long  as  civilization  shall  exist.  The 
creations  of  the  chisel  will  ever  be  held  in  reverence  by 


CHAP,  iv.]  Development  of  Art. 

mankind,  and  probably  in  proportion  as  wealth,  elegance, 
and  material  prosperity  shall  flourish.     In    an    important 
sense,  Corinth  was  as  "wonderful  as  Athens,   although    to 
Athens  will  be  assigned  the   highest  place  in  the  ancient 
world.     It  was  art   rather    than  literature   or  philosophy 
which  was  the  glory  of  Rome  in  the  period  of  her  decline. 
As  great  capitals  become  centres  of  luxury  and  display, 
artists  will  be   rewarded  and  honored.     The   pride  of  a 
commercial  metropolis  is  in  those  material  wonders  which 
appeal  to  the  senses,  and  which  wealth  can  purchase.     A 
rich  merchant  can  give  employment  to  the  architect,  when 
he  would  be  disinclined   to  reward  the  critic  or  the  his 
torian.     Even  where  liberty  and  lofty  aspirations  for  truth 
and  moral  excellence  have  left  a  state,  the  arts  suffer  but 
little  decline.     The  grandest  monuments  of  Rome  date  to 
the  imperial  regime,  not  to  the  republican  sway.     When 
the  voice  of  a  Cicero  was  mute,  the  Flavian  amphitheatre 
arose    in   its  sublime   proportions.     Imperial   despotism  is 
favorable  to  the  adornment  of  Paris  and  St.  Petersburg, 
even    as    wealth    and   luxury    will    beautify    New    York. 
When  the  early  lights  of  the  Church  were  unheeded  in  the 
old  capitals  of  the  world,  new  temples  and  palaces  were 
the  o-lory  of  the  state.     Art  was  the  first  to  be  revived  of 
the  Trophies  of  the  old  civilization,  and  it  will  be  the  last  to 
be  relinquished  by  those  whom  civilization  has  enriched. 
Art  excites  no  dangerous  passions  or  sentiments  in   Develop. 
a  decaying  monarchy,  and  it  is  a  fresh  and  per 
petual  pleasure,  not  merely  to  the  people,  but  to  the  arbiters 
of  taste  and  fashion.     The  Popes  rewarded  artists  when 
they  crushed  reformers,  and  persecuted  inquiring  genius. 
The  developments  of  art  appeal  to  material  life  and  inter 
ests  rather  than  to  the   spiritual  and  eternal.     St.   Paul 
scarcely  alludes  to  the  material  wonders  of  the  cities  he 
visited,  even  as  Luther  was  insensible  to  the  ornaments  of 
Italy  in  his  absorbing  desire  for  the  spiritual  and  moral 
welfare  of  society.     Art  is  purely  the  creation  of  man.    It 


142  Art  in  ike  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

receives  no  inspiration  from  Heaven  ;  and  yet  the  princi 
ples  on  which  it  is  based  are  eternal  and  unchangeable,  and 
when  it  is  made  to  be  the  handmaid  of  virtue,  it  is  capable 
of  exciting  the  loftiest  sentiments.  So  pure,  so  exalted, 
and  so  wrapt  are  the  feelings  which  arise  from  the  con 
templation  of  a  great  picture  or  statue,  that  we  sometimes 
ascribe  a  religious  force  to  the  art  itself,  while  all  that  is 
divine  springs  from  the  conception  of  the  artist,  and  all 
that  is  divine  in  his  conception  arises  from  sentiments  inde 
pendent  of  his  art,  as  he  is  stimulated  by  emotions  of 
religion,  or  patriotism,  or  public  virtue,  and  which  he  could 
never  have  embodied  had  he  not  been  a  good  man,  rather 
than  a  great  artist,  or,  at  least,  affected  by  sentiments 
which  he  learned  from  other  sources.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that,  through  the  vehicle  of  art,  the  grandest  and 
noblest  sentiments  may  be  expressed.  Hence  artists  may 
be  great  benefactors ;  yet  sometimes  their  works  are 
demoralizing,  as  they  appeal  to  perverted  taste  and  pas 
sions.  This  was  especially  true  in  the  later  days  of  Rome, 
when  artists  sought  to  please  their  corrupt  but  wealthy 
patrons.  The  great  artists  of  Greece,  however,  had  in 

Glory  of  v*ew  a  1°%"  ^ea^  °^  Deauty  an<^  grace  which 
art-  they  sought  to  realize  without  reference  to 

profit,  or  worldly  advantage,  or  utilitarian  necessities. 
Art,  when  true  and  exalted,  as  it  sometimes  is,  and  always 
should  be,  has  its  end  in  itself.  Like  virtue,  it  is  its  own 
reward.  Michael  Angel©  worked,  preoccupied  and  wrapt, 
without  the  stimulus  of  even  praise,  even  as  Dante  lived 
in  the  visions  to  which  his  imagination  gave  form  and 
reality.  Art  is  therefore  self-sustained,  unselfish,  lofty. 
It  is  the  soul  going  forth  triumphant  over  external  cir 
cumstances,  jubilant  and  melodious  even  in  poverty  and 
neglect,  rising  above  the  evils  of  life  in  its  absorbing  con 
templation  of  ideal  loveliness.  The  fortunate  accidents  of 
earth  are  nothing  to  the  true  artist,  striving  to  reach  his 
ideal  of  excellence,  —  no  more  than  carpets  and  chairs  are 


CHAP,  iv.]  The  Ideal  of  Art.  143 

to  a  great  woman  pining  for  sympathy  or  love.  And  it  is 
only  when  there  is  this  soul-longing  to  reach  the  excellence 
it  has  conceived  for  itself  alone  that  great  works  have  been 
produced.  The  sweetest  strains  of  music  sometimes  come 
from  women  where  no  one  listens  to  their  melodies.  Nor 
does  a  great  artist  seek  or  need  commiseration,  if  ever  so 
unfortunate  in  worldly  circumstances.  He  may  be  sad 
and  sorrowful,  but  only  in  the  profound  seriousness  of 
superior  knowledge,  in  that  isolation  to  which  all  genius  is 
doomed. 

We  have    reason   to  believe  that   the  great  artists  of 

antiquitv  lived,  as  did  the  Ionic  philosophers,  in     Greatartista 

,.  ,.  ,          „    ,        i      '    i   /»    i      labor  from 

their  own  glorious  realms  ot  thought  and  ieel-     inspiration. 

ing,  which  the  world  could  neither  understand  nor  share. 
Their  ideas  of  grace  and  beauty  were  realized  to  the 
highest  degree  ever  known  on  earth.  They  were  ex 
pressed  in  their  temples,  their  statues,  and  their  pictures. 
They  did  not  live  for  utilities.  When  art  became  a  utility, 
it  degenerated.  It  became  more  pretentious,  artificial, 
complicated,  elaborate,  ornamental  even,  but  it  lacked 
genius,  the  simplicity  of  power,  the  glory  of  originality. 
The  horses  of  the  sun  cannot  be  made  to  go  round  in 
a  mill.  The  spiritual  must  keep  within  its  own  seclusion, 
in  its  inner  temple  of  mystery  and  meditation. 

Grecian  art  was  consecrated  to  Paganism,  and  could  not 
therefore  soar  beyond  what  Paganism  revealed.     Grecian  art 

T       i.  i  T>     *  I  i       i  •  -i.  consecrated 

Jt  did  not  typify  those  exalted  sentiments  which  to  Paganism. 
even  a  Gothic  cathedral  portrayed  —  sacrifice  ;  the  man 
on  the  cross  ;  the  man  in  the  tomb ;  the  man  ascending 
to  heaven.  Nor  did  it  paint,  like  Raphael,  etherial  beauty, 
such  as  was  expressed  in  the  mother  of  our  Lord,  her 
whom  all  generations  shall  bless,  regina  angelorum,  mater 
divince  gratice.  But  whatever  has  been  reached  by, the 
unaided  powers  of  man,  it  reproduced  and  consecrated,  and 
it  realized  the  highest  conceptions  of  beauty  and  grace 
that  have  ever  been  represented.  All  that  the  mind  and 


144  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

the  soul  could,  by  their  inherent  force,  reach,  it  has  at 
tained.  Modern  civilization  has  no  prouder  triumphs  than 
those  achieved  by  the  artists  of  Pagan  antiquity  in  those 
things  which  pertain  to  beauty  and  grace.  Grecian  artists 
have  been  the  schoolmasters  of  all  nations  and  all  ages  in 
architecture,  sculpture,  and  painting.  How  far  they  them 
selves  were  original  we  cannot  decide,  although  they  were 
Greatness  probably  somewhat  indebted  to  the  Assyrians 
of'orSf  and  Egyptians.  But  they  struck  out  so  new  a 
style,  and  so  different  from  the  older  monuments 
of  Asia  and  Egypt,  that  we  consider  them  the  great 
creators  of  art.  But  whether  original  or  not,  they  have 
never  been  surpassed.  In  some  respects  their  immortal 
productions  remain  objects  of  hopeless  imitation.  In  the 
realization  of  ideas  of  beauty  which  are  eternal,  like  those 
on  which  Plato  built  his  system  of  philosophy,  they 
reached  absolute  perfection.  And  hence  we  infer  that  art 
can  flourish  under  Pagan  as  well  as  Christian  influences. 
We  can  go  no  higher  than  those  ancient  Pagans  in  one  of 
the  proudest  fields  of  civilization  ;  for  art  has  as  sincere 
and  warm  admirers  as  it  had  in  Grecian  and  Roman  times, 
but  the  limit  of  excellence  has  been  reached.  It  is  the 
mission  of  our  age  to  apply  creative  genius  to  enterprises 
and  works  which  have  not  been  tried,  if  any  thing  new  is 
to  be  found  under  the  sun.  Nor  was  it  the  number  and 
extent  of  the  works  of  art  among  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
nor  their  perfection,  which  made  art  so  distinguishing  an 
element  of  the  old  civilization.  It  was  the  spirit  of  the 
age,  the  absorption  of  the  public  mind,  the  great  prom 
inence  which  art  had  in  the  eyes  of  the  people.  Art 
was  to  the  Greeks  what  tournaments  and  churches  were  to 
the  men  of  the  Middle  Ages,  what  the  Reformation  was  to 
Germany  and  England  in  the  sixteenth  century,  what 
theories  of  political  rights  were  to  the  era  of  the  French 
Revolution,  what  mechanical  inventions  to  abridge  hu 
man  labor  are  to  us.  The  creation  of  a  great  statue  was 


CHAP,  iv.i  The  Principles  of  Art.  145 

an  era,  an  object  of  popular  interest  —  the  subject  of  uni 
versal  comment.     It  kindled  popular  inspirations.   Grecian  ad- 

1          .  i.ii  miration  of 

It  was  the  great  form  of  progress  in  winch  that  art. 
age  rejoiced.  Public  benefactors  erected  temples,  and 
lavished  upon  them  the  superfluous  wealth  of  the  State. 
And  public  benefactors,  in  turn,  had  statues  erected  to 
their  memory  by  their  grateful  admirers.  The  genius  of 
the  age  expressed  itself  in  marble  histories.  And  these  his 
tories  stand  in  the  mystery  of  absolute  perfection  —  the 
glory  and  the  characteristic  of  a  great  and  peculiar  people. 
Much  has  been  written  on  those  principles  upon  which 
art  is  founded,  and  great  ingenuity  displayed.  PrincipleSof 
But  treatises  on  taste,  on  beauty,  on  grace,  and  art' 
other  perceptions  of  intellectual  pleasure,  are  not  very  sat 
isfactory,  and  must  be  necessarily  indefinite.  In  what  does 
beauty  consist  ?  Do  we  arrive  at  any  clearer  conceptions 
of  it  by  definitions  ?  Whether  beauty,  the  chief  glory  of 
the  fine  arts,  consists  in  certain  arrangements  and  propor 
tions  of  the  parts  to  a  whole,  or  in  the  fitness  of  means  to  an 
end,  or  is  dependent  on  associations  which  excite  pleasure, 
or  is  a  revelation  of  truth,  or  is  an  appeal  to  sensibilities, 
or  is  an  imitation  of  Nature,  or  the  realization  of  ideal 
excellence,  it  is  difficult  to  settle  and  almost  useless  to 
inquire.  "  Metaphysics,  mathematics,  music,  and  philos 
ophy  have  been  called  in  to  analyze,  define,  demonstrate, 
and  generalize."  a  Great  writers  have  written  ingenious 
treatises,  like  Burke,  Alison,  and  Stewart.  Beauty,  accord 
ing  to  Plato,  is  the  contemplation  of  mind  ;  Leibnitz  main 
tained  it  consists  in  perfection  ;  Diderot  referred  beauty  to 
the  idea  of  relation  ;  Blondel  asserted  it  was  harmonic  pro 
portions  ;  Peter  Leigh  speaks  of  it  as  the  music  of  the  eye. 
Yet  everybody  understands  what  beauty  is,  and  that  it  is 
derived  from  Nature,  agreeable  to  the  purest  models  which 
Nature  presents.  Such  was  the  ideal  of  Phidias.  Such 
was  it  to  the  minds  of  the  Greeks,  who  united  every  a'd- 

1  Cleghorn,  Ancient  and  Modern  Art,  vol.  i.  p.  67. 
10 


146  Art  in  the  Roman  Umpire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

vantage,  physical  and  mental,  for  the  perfection  of  art. 
Nor  could  art  have  been  so  wonderfully  developed  had  it 
not  been  for  the  influence  which  the  great  poets,  orators, 
dramatists,  historians,  and  philosophers  exercised  on  the 
inspiration  of  the  artists.  Phidias,  being  asked  how  he 
conceived  the  idea  of  his  Olympian  Jupiter,  answered  by 
repeating  a  passage  of  Homer.  We  can  scarcely  conceive 
Devotion  of  of  the  enthusiasm  which  the  Greeks  exhibited  in 

the  Greeks  ,..  n  TT  .      i  i       •        i 

for  art.  the  cultivation  ot  art.  Hence  it  has  obtained  an 
ascendency  over  that  of  all  other  nations.  Roman  art  was 
the  continuation  of  the  Grecian.  The  Romans  appreciated 
and  rewarded  Grecian  artists.  They  adopted  their  archi 
tecture,  their  sculpture,  and  their  paintings ;  and,  though 
art  never  attained  the  estimation  and  dignity  in  Rome  that 
it  did  in  Greece,  it  still  can  boast  of  a  great  development. 
But,  inasmuch  as  all  the  great  models  were  Grecian,  and 
appropriated  and  copied  by  the  Romans,  —  inasmuch  as 
the  great  wonders  of  the  "  Eternal  City  "  were  made  by 
Greeks,— we  cannot  treat  of  Roman  art  in  distinction  from 
Grecian.  And  as  I  wish  to  show  simply  the  triumph  of 
Pagan  genius  in  the  realm  of  art,  and  most  of  the  immor 
tal  creations  of  the  great  artists  were  transported  to  Rome, 
and  adorned  Rome,  it  is  within  my  province  to  go  where 
they  were  originally  found. 

"  Tu,  regere  imperio  populos,  Romane,  memento  ! 
Hae  tibi  erunt  artes." 

The  first  development  of  art  was  in  architecture,  not 
Art  first  im-  merely  among  the  Greeks,  but  among  the  older 

pressive  in  .      J  *?  .  &     . 

architecture,  nations.  Although  it  refers,  in  a  certain  sense, 
to  all  buildings,  yet  it  is  ordinarily  restricted  to  those  edi 
fices  in  which  we  recognize  the  principle  of  beauty,  such 
as  symmetrical  arrangement,  and  attractive  ornaments,  like 
pillars,  cornices,  and  sculptured  leaves. 

The  earliest  buildings  were  houses  to  protect  men  from 
the  inclemencies  of  the  weather,  and  built  without  much 
regard  to  beauty ;  but  it  is  in  temples  for  the  worship  of 


CHAP.  IV.]  Egyptian  Architecture.  147 

God,  that  architecture  lays  claim  to  dignity.  It  was  the 
result  of  devotional  feelings  ;  nor  is  there  a  single  instance 
of  supreme  excellence  in  art  being  reached,  which  was  not 
sacred,  and  connected  with  reverential  tendencies.  In  the 
erection  and  decoration  of  sacred  buildings  there  was  a 
profound  sentiment  that  they  were  to  be  the  sanctuaries 
of  God,  and  genius  was  stimulated  by  pious  emotions.  In 
India,  in  Egypt,  in  Greece,  in  Italy,  the  various  tem 
ples  all  originated  in  blended  superstition  and  devotion. 
Nor  did  the  edifice,  erected  for  religious  worship,  reach 
its  culminating  height  of  beauty  and  grandeur  until  that 
earnest  and  profoundly  religious  epoch  which  felt  as  in 
juries  the  insults  offered  to  the  tomb  which  covered  the 
remains  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  Then  arose  those 
hoary  and  Gothic  vaults  of  Cologne  and  Westminster,  the 
only  modern  structures  which  would  probably  have  called 
out  the  admiration  of  an  ancient  Greek. 

But  architecture  is  conventional,  and  demands  a  knowl 
edge  of  its  system  and  a  mind  informed  as  to  Egyptian 
the  principles  on  which  it  depends  for  beauty.  architecfcure- 
Hence,  in  the  oldest  temples  of  India  and  Egypt,  there 
was  probably  vastness,  without  elegance  or  even  embel 
lishment.  But  no  nation  ever  left  structures  that,  in 
extent  and  grandeur,  can  compare  with  those  of  ancient 
Egypt ;  and  these  were  chiefly  temples.  Nothing  remains 
of  the  ancient  monuments  of  Thebes  but  the  ruins  of  edi 
fices  consecrated  to  the  deity  —  neither  bridges,  nor  quays, 
nor  baths,  nor  theatres.  It  was  when  the  Israelites  were 
oppressed  by  Pharaoh  that  the  great  city  of  Heliopolis, 
which  the  Greeks  called  Thebes,  arose,  with  its  hundred 
gates,  and  stately  public  buildings,  and  magnificent  tem 
ples.  The  ruins  of  these  attest  grandeur  and  vastness. 
They  were  built  of  stone,  in  huge  blocks,  and  we  are  still 
at  a  loss  to  comprehend  how  such  heavy  stones  could  have 
been  transported  and  erected.  All  the  monuments  of  the 
Pharaohs  are  wonders  of  science  and  art,  especially  such 


148  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV 

as  appear  in  the  ruins  of  Carnack  —  a  temple  formerly 
designated  as  that  of  Jupiter  Ammon.  It  was  in  the  time 
of  Sesostris,  or  Rameses  the  Great,  the  first  of  the  Pha 
raohs  of  the  nineteenth  dynasty,  that  architecture  in  Egypt 
reached  its  greatest  development.  Then  we  find  the  rec- 
Monuments  tangular  cut  blocks  of  stone  in  parallel  courses, 
of  Egypt.  an(j  t|ie  heavy  pierS)  and  the  cylindrical  column, 
with  its  bell-shaped  capital,  and  the  bold  and  massive  rec 
tangular  architraves  extending  from  pier  to  pier  and  column 
to  column,  surmounted  by  a  deep  covered  coping  or  cor 
nice.  But  the  imposing  architecture  of  Egypt  was  chiefly 
owing  to  the  vast  proportions  of  the  public  buildings.  It 
was  not  produced  by  beauty  of  proportion,  or  graceful 
embellishments.  It  was  designed  to  awe  the  people,  and 
kindle  sentiments  of  wonder  and  astonishment.  So  far  as 
this  end  was  contemplated,  it  was  nobly  reached.  Even  to 
this  dav  the  traveller  stands  in  adniirino-  amazement  before 

•s  £? 

those  monuments  which  were  old  three  thousand  years  ago. 
No  structures  have  been  so  enduring  as  the  Pyramids. 
No  ruins  are  more  extensive  and  majestic  than  those  of 
Thebes.  The  temple  of  Carnack  and  the  palace  of  Ra 
meses  the  Great,  were  probably  the  most  imposing  ever 
built  by  man.  This  temple  was  built  of  blocks  of  stone 
Temple  of  seventy  feet  in  length,  on  a  platform  one  thou 
sand  feet  long  and  three  hundred  wide,  with  pil 
lars  sixty  feet  in  height.  But  this  and  other  structures 
did  not  possess  that  unity  of  design,  which  marked  the 
Grecian  temples.  Alleys  of  colossal  sphinxes  form  the  ap 
proach.  At  Carnack  the  alley  was  six  thousand  feet  long, 
and  before  the  main  body  of  the  edifice  stand  two  obelisks 
commemorative  of  the  dedication.  The  principal  struct 
ures  do  not  follow  the  straight  line,  but  begin  with  pyra- 
midical  towers  which  flank  the  gateways.  Then  follows, 
usually,  a  court  surrounded  with  colonnades,  subordinate 
temples,  and  houses  for  the  priests.  A  second  pylon,  or 
pyramidical  tower,  now  leads  to  the  interior  and  most  con- 


CHAP,  iv.]  The  Pyramids.  149 

siderable  part  of  the  temple,  a  portico  inclosed  with  walls, 
which  only  receives  light  through  the  entablature  or  open 
ings  in  the  roof.     Adjoining  to  this  is  the  cella  of  the  tem 
ple,    without    columns,    inclosed    by    several    walls,    often 
divided  into  various  small  chambers,  with  monolith  recep 
tacles  for  idols   or  mummies   or  animals.     The   columns 
stand  within  the  walls.     The  Egyptians  had  no  perpetual 
temples.     The  colonnade  is  not,  as  among  the  Greeks,  an 
expansion  of  the  temple  ;  it  is  merely  the  wall  with  aper 
tures.      The  walls,   composed  of  square  blocks,   Beaton*  of 
are  perpendicular  only  on  the  inside,  and  beveled  art. 
externally,  so  that  the  thickness  at  the  bottom  sometimes 
amounts  to  twenty-four  feet,  and  thus  the  whole  building 
assumes  a  pyramidical  form,  the  fundamental  principle  of 
Egyptian    architecture.      The   columns  are   more   slender 
than  the  early  Doric,  are  placed  close  together,  and  have 
bases  of  circular  plinths  ;  the  shaft  diminishes,  and  is  orna 
mented   with    perpendicular  or    oblique  furrows,  but   not 
fluted  like  Grecian  columns.     The  capitals  are  of  the  bell 
form,  ornamented  with  all  kinds  of  foliage,  and  have  a  nar 
row  but  high  abacus,  or  bulge  out  below,  and  are  contracted 
above,  with  low,  but  projecting  abacus.     They  abound  with 
sculptured  decorations,  borrowed  from  the  vegetation  of 
the  country.     The  highest  of  the  columns  of  the  temple 
of  Luxor  is  five  and  a  quarter  times  the  greatest  diameter.1 
But  no  monuments  have  ever  excited  so  much  curiosity 
and  wonder  as  the  Pyramids,  not  in  consequence   T^e  Pyra. 
of  any  particular  beauty  or  ingenuity,   as  from   r 
their  immense  size  and  unknown  age.     None  but  sacerdo 
tal  monarchs  would  ever  have  erected  them  —  none   but  a 
fanatical  people  would  ever  have  toiled  upon  them.     They 
do  not  indicate  civilization,  but   despotism.     We   do  not 
know  for  what  purpose  they  were  raised,  except  as  sepul 
chres  for  kings.     They  do   not  even   indicate   as  high  a 
culture  as  the  temples  of  Thebes,  although  they  were  built 

i  Miiller. 


150  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

at  a  considerable  period  subsequently,  even  several  genera 
tions  after  Sesostris  reigned  in  splendor.  The  pyramid  of 
Cheops,  at  Memphis,  covers  a  square  whose  side  is  seven 
hundred  and  sixty-eight  feet,  and  rises  into  the  air  four 
hundred  and  fifty-two,  and  is  a  solid  mass  of  stone,  which 
has  suffered  less  from  time  than  the  mountains  near  it. 
And  it  is  probable  that  it  stands  over  an  immense  substruc 
ture,  in  which  may  yet  be  found  the  lore  of  ancient  Egypt, 
and  which  may  even  prove  to  be  the  famous  labyrinth  of 
which  Herodotus  speaks,  built  by  the  twelve  kings  of 
Egypt.  According  to  this  author,  one  hundred  thousand 
men  worked  on  this  monument  for  forty  years.  What  a 
waste  of  labor ! 

The  palaces  of  the  kings  are  mere  imitations  of  the  tem 
ples,  and  the  only  difference  of  architecture  is  this,  that 
the  rooms  are  larger  and  in  greater  numbers.  Some  think 
that  the  labyrinth  was  a  collective  palace  of  many  rulers. 

Such  was  the  massive  grandeur  of  Egyptian  antiquities: 
at  the  best  curiosities,  but  of  slight  avail  for  moral  or  a3s- 
thetic  culture,  they  yet  indicate  a  considerable  civiliza 
tion  at  a  very  remote  period — proving  not  merely  by  archi 
tectural  monuments,  but  by  their  system  of  writing,  an 
original  and  intellectual  people.1 

Of  Babylonian  architecture  we  know  but  little,  beyond 
Babylonian  what  the  Scriptures  and  ancient  authors  allude 
architecture.  ^  m  scattere(}  notices.  But,  though  nothing  sur 
vives  of  ancient  magnificence,  we  feel  that  a  city  whose 
walls,  according  to  Herodotus,  were  eighty-seven  feet  in 
thickness,  three  hundred  and  thirty-seven  in  height,  and 
sixty  miles  in  circumference,  and  in  which  were  one  hun 
dred  gates  of  brass,  must  have  had  considerable  architectu 
ral  splendor.  The  Tower  of  Belus,  the  Palace  of  Nebu 
chadnezzar,  and  the  Obelisk  of  Semiramis,  were  probably 
wonderful  structures,  certainly  in  size,  which  is  one  of  the 
conditions  of  architectural  effect. 

fl  Miiller,  Ancient  Art ;  Wilkinson.  Topog.  of  Thebes ;  Champollion,  Lettres 
Ecrites  d" Egypt;  Journal  dts  -Sat'.  1836;  Encyclopedia  Britannica  ;  Strabo. 


CHAP.  IV.]  G-recian  Architecture. 

The  Tyrians  must  have  carried  architecture  to  consid 
erable  perfection,  since  the  Temple  of  Solomon,  Tyrianmon- 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  in  the  ancient 
world,  was  probably  built  by  Phoenician  artists.  It  was 
not  remarkable  for  "size;  it  was,  indeed,  very  small;  but 
it  had  great  splendor  of  decoration.  It  was  of  quadran 
gular  outline,  erected  upon  a  solid  platform  of  stone,  and 
having  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  oldest  Greek  temples, 
like  those  of  ^Egina  and  Paestum.  The  portico  of  the 
temple,  in  the  time  of  Herod,  was  one  hundred  and  eighty 
feet  high,  and  the  temple  itself  was  entered  by  nine  gates 
thickly  coated  with  silver  and  gold.  The  inner  sanctuary 
was  covered  on  all  sides  with  plates  of  gold,  and  was  daz 
zling  to  the  eye.  The  various  courts  and  porticoes  and 
palaces  with  which  it  was  surrounded,  gave  to  it  a  very 
imposing  effect. 

Architecture,  however,  as  the  expression  of  genius  and 
high  civilization,  was  perfected  only  by  the  Greeks.  Egyp 
tian  monuments  were  curiosities  to  the  Greek  and  Roman 
mind,  as  they  are  to  us  objects  of  awe  and  wonder.  And 
as  we  propose  to  treat  of  the  arts  in  their  culminating  ex 
cellence  chiefly,  —  to  show  what  the  Pagan  intellect  of 
man  could  accomplish,  unaided  by  light  from  heaven,  we 
turn  to  the  great  teacher  of  the  last  two  thousand  years. 
It  was  among  the  ancient  Dorians,  who  descended  from 
the  mountains  of  Northern  Greece  eighty  years  Early  Doric 
after  the  fall  of  Troy,  that  art  first  appeared.  B 
The  Pelasgi,  supposed  to  be  Phoenicians,  erected  cyclo- 
pean  structures  fifteen  hundred  years  before  Christ,  as  seen 
in  the  giant  walls  of  the  Acropolis,1  constructed  of  huge 
blocks  of  hewn  stone,  and  the  palaces  of  the  princes  of  he 
roic  times,2  like  the  Mycenaean  treasury,  the  lintel  of  the 
doorway  of  which  is  one  stone  twenty-seven  feet  long  and 
sixteen" broad.3  But  these  edifices,  which  aimed  at  splen- 

1  Dodwdts  Classical  Tour,  Miiller. 

2  Homer's  description  of  the  palace  of  Odysseus. 
8  Mure,  Tour  in  Greece. 


152  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV 

dor  and  richness  merely,  were  deficient  in  that  simplicity 
and  harmony  which  have  given  immortality  to  the  temples 
of  the  Dorians.  In  this  style  of  architecture  every  thing 
was  suitable  to  its  object,  and  was  grand  and  noble.  The 
great  thickness  of  the  columns,  the  beautiful  entablature, 
the  ample  proportion  of  the  capital ;  the  great  horizontal 
lines  of  the  architrave  and  cornice,  predominating  over  the 
vertical  lines  of  the  columns ;  the  severity  of  geometrical 
forms,  produced  for  the  most  part  by  straight  lines,  gave 
an  imposing  simplicity  to  the  Doric  temple.  How  far  the 
Greek  architects  were  indebted  to  the  Egyptian  we  can 
not  tell,  for  though  columns  are  found  amid  the  ruins  of 
Theprinei-  the  Egyptian  temples,  they  are  of  different  shape 

pies  of  Doric  ^J L  ,  •          1     .    '  *7  . 

achitechure.  troin  any  made  by  the  breeks.  In  the  structures 
of  Thebes  we  find  both  the  tumescent  and  the  cylindrical 
columns,  from  which  amalgamation  might  have  been  pro 
duced  the  Doric  column.  The  Greeks  seized  on  beauty 
wherever  they  found  it,  and  improved  upon  it.  The  Doric 
column  was  not,  probably,  an  entirely  new  creation,  but 
shaped  after  the  models  furnished  by  the  most  original  of 
all  the  ancient  nations,  even  the  Egyptians.  The  Doric 
style  was  used  exclusively  until  after  the  Macedonian  con 
quest,  and  was  chiefly  applied  to  temples.  The  Doric  tem 
ples  are  uniform  in  plan.  The  columns  were  fluted,  and 
were  generally  about  six  diameters  in  height.  They  di 
minished  gradually  from  the  base,  with  a  slight  convexed 
swelling  downward.  They  were  superimposed  by  capitals 
proportionate,  and  coming  within  their  height.  The  en 
tablature  which  the  column  supported  is  also  of  so  many 
diameters  in  height.  So  regular  and  perfect  was  the  plan 
of  the  temple,  that,  "  if  the  dimensions  of  a  single  column, 
and  the  proportion  the  entablature  should  bear  to  it,  were 
given  to  two  individuals  acquainted  with  the  style,  with 
directions  to  compose  a  temple,  they  would  produce  designs 
exactly  similar  in  size,  arrangement,  and  general  propor 
tions."  Then  the  Doric  order  possessed  a  peculiar  liar- 


CHAP,  iv.]  The  Doric  Order.  153 

mony,  but  taste  and  skill  were  nevertheless  necessary  in 
order  to  determine  the  number  of  diameters  a  column 
should  have,  and,  accordingly,  the  height  of  the  entabla 
ture.  The  Doric  was  the  favorite  order  of  European 
Greece  for  one  thousand  years,  and  also  of  her  colonies  in 
Sicilv  and  Magna  Grsecia.  The  massive  temples  The  features 

«•  .  _,.    ,1       of  the  Done 

of  Psestum,  the  colossal  magnificence  of  the  Sicil-  order. 
ian  ruins,  and  the  more  elegant  proportions  of  the  Athe 
nian  structures,  like  the  Parthenon  and  Temple  of  Theseus, 
show  the  perfection  of  the  Doric  architecture.  Although 
the  general  style  of  all  the  Doric  temples  is  so  uniform, 
yet  hardly  two  temples  were  alike.  The  earlier  Doric 
was  more  massive  ;  the  latter  were  more  elegant,  and  were 
rich  in  sculptured  decorations.  Nothing  could  -surpass  the 
beauty  of  a  Doric  temple  in  the  time  of  Pericles.  The 
stylobate  or  pedestal,  from  two  thirds  to  a  whole  diameter 
of  a  column  in  height,  was  built  in  three  equal  courses, 
which  gradually  receded  from  the  one  below,  and  formed 
steps,  as  it  were,  of  a  grand  platform  on  which  the  pillars 
rested.  The  column  was  from  four  to  six  diameters  in 
height,  with  twenty  flutes,  with  a  capital  of  half  a  diameter 
supporting  the  entablature.  This  again,  two  diameters  in 
height,  was  divided  into  architrave,  frieze,  and  cornice. 
But  the  great  beauty  of  the  temple  was  the  portico  in  front, 
a  forest  of  columns,  supporting  the  pediment,  about  a  diam 
eter  and  a  half  to  the  apex,  making  an  angle  at  the  base  of 
about  14°.  From  the  pediment  projects  the  cornice,  while, 
at  the  apex  and  at  the  base  of  it,  are  sculptured  ornaments, 
generally,  the  figures  of  men  or  animals.  The  whole  out 
line  of  columns  supporting  the  entablature  is  graceful,  while 
the  variety  of  light  and  shade  arising  from  the  arrange 
ment  of  mouldings  and  capitals  produce  a  grand  effect. 
The  Parthenon,  the  most  beautiful  specimen  of  ThePar. 
the  Doric,  has  never  been  equaled,  and  it  still  * 
stands  august  in  its  ruins  —  the  glory  of  the  old  Acropolis, 
and  the  pride  of  Athens.  It  was  built  of  Pentelic  marble, 


154  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

and  rested  on  a  basement  of  limestone.  It  was  two  hun 
dred  and  twenty-seven  feet  in  length,  and  one  hundred 
and  one  in  breadth,  and  sixty-five  in  height,  surrounded 
with  forty-eight  fluted  columns,  six  feet  and  two  inches  at 
the  base,  and  thirty-four  feet  in  height,  while  within  the 
peristyle,  at  either  end,  was  an  interior  range  of  columns, 
standing  before  the  end  of  the  cella.  The  frieze  and  the 
pediment  were  elaborately  ornamented  with  reliefs  and 
statues,  while  the  cella,  within  and  without,  was  adorned 
with  the  choicest  sculptures  of  Phidias.  The  grandest 
was  the  colossal  statue  of  Minerva,  in  the  eastern  apart 
ment  of  the  cella,  forty  feet  in  height,  composed  of  gold  and 
ivory  ;  while  the  inner  walls  were  decorated  with  paint 
ings,  and  the  temple  itself  was  a  repository  of  countless 
treasure.  But  the  Parthenon,  so  regular,  with  its  verti 
cal  and  horizontal  lines,  was  curved  in  every  line,  with  the 
exception  of  the  gable, — pillars,  architrave,  entablature, 
frieze,  and  cornice,  together  with  the  basement— all  arched 
upwards,  though  so  slightly  as  not  to  be  perceptible,  and 
these  curved  lines  gave  to  it  a  peculiar  grace  which  cannot 
be  imitated,  as  well  as  solidity. 

Nearly  coeval  with  the  Doric  was  the  Ionic  order,  in 
vented  by  the  Asiatic  Greeks,  still  more  graceful,  though 
not  so  imposing.  The  Acropolis  is  a  perfect  example  of 
The  Aero-  tms  order.  The  column  is  nine  diameters  in 
height,  with  a  base,  while  the  capital  is  more 
ornamented.  The  shaft  is  fluted  with  twenty-four  flutes 
and  alternate  fillets,  and  the  fillet  is  about  a  quarter  the 
width  of  the  flute.  The  pediment  is  flatter  than  of  the 
Doric  order,  and  more  elaborate.  The  great  distinction 
of  the  Ionic  column  is  a  base,  and  a  capital  formed  with 
volutes,  with  a  more  slender  shaft.  Vitruvius,  the  greatest 
authority  among  the  ancients  in  architecture,  says  that, 
"the  Greeks,  in  inventing  these  two  kinds  of  columns, 
imitated  in  the  one  the  naked  simplicity  and  dignity  of  a 
man,  and  in  the  other,  the  delicacy  and  ornaments  of  a 


CHAP  iv.]  Beauty  of  Grecian  Temples.  155 

woman  ;  the  base  of  the  Ionic  was  the  imitation  of  san 
dals,  and  the  volutes  of  ringlets." 

The  Corinthian  order  exhibits  a  still  greater  refinement 
and  elegance  than  the  other  two,  and  was  introduced  to 
ward  the  end  of  the  Peloponnesian  war.     Its  peculiarity 
is  columns  with  foliated  capitals,  and  still  greater  height, 
about  ten  diameters,  with  a  more  ornamented  entablature. 
Of  this  order,  the  most  famous  temple  in  Greece   Templeof 
was  that  of  Minerva  at  Tegea,  built  by  Scopas  Mmerva- 
of  Faros,  but  destroyed  by  fire  four  hundred  years  before 
Christ. 

Nothing  more  distinguished  Greek  architecture  than  the 
variety,  the  grace,  and  the  beauty  of  the  mouldings,  gene 
rally  in  eccentric  curves.  The  general  outline  of  the 
moulding  is  a  gracefully  flowing  cyma,  or  wave,  concave 
at  one  end,  and  convex  at  the  other,  like  an  Italic  /,  the 
concavity  and  convexity  being  exactly  in  the  same  curve, 
according  to  the  line  of  beauty  which  Hogarth  describes. 

The  most  beautiful  application  of  Grecian  architecture 
was  in  the  temples,  which  were  very  numerous,  Architecture 
and  of  extraordinary  grandeur,  long  before  the 
Persian  war.  Their  entrance  was  always  to 
the  west  or  the  east.  They  were  built  either  temPles- 
in  an  oblong  or  round  form,  and  were  mostly  adorned 
with  columns.  Those  of  an  oblong  form  had  columns 
either  in  the  front  alone,  in  the  fore  and  back  fronts,  or  on 
all  the  four  sides.  They  generally  had  porticoes  attached 
to  them.  They  had  no  windows,  receiving  their  light 
from  the  door  or  from  above.  The  friezes  were  adorned 
with  various  sculptures,  as  were  sometimes  the  pediments, 
and  no  expense  was  spared  upon  them.  The  most  im 
portant  part  of  the  temple  was  the  cella,  where  the  statue 
of  the  deity  was  kept,  and  was  generally  surrounded  with 
a  balustrade.  Beside  the  cella  was  the  vestibule,  and  a 
chamber  in  the  rear  or  back  front  in  which  the  treasures 
of  the  temple  were  kept.  Names  were  applied  to  the 


156  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

temples,  as  well  as  the  porticoes,  according  to  the  number 
of  columns  in  the  portico  at  either  end  of  the  temple, 
such  as  the  tetrastyle  with  four  columns  in  front,  or 
hexastyle  when  there  were  six.  There  were  never  more 
than  ten  columns  in  front.  The  Parthenon  had  eight, 
but  six  was  the  usual  number.  It  was  the  rule  to  have 
twice  as  many  columns  along  the  sides  as  in  front,  and 
one  more.  Some  of  the  temples  had  double  rows  of 
columns  on  all  sides,  like  that  of  Diana  at  Ephesus,  and 
of  Quit-inns  at  Rome.  The  distance  between  the  columns 
varied  from  a  diameter  and  half  of  a  column  to  four  diam 
eters.  About  five  eighths  of  a  Doric  temple  were  occupied 
by  the  cella,  and  three  eighths  by  the  portico. 

That  which  gives  so  much  simplicity  and  harmony  in 
simplicity  of  the  Greek  temples,  which  are  the  great  elements 

Grecian  L  .  ° 

temples.  of  beauty  in  architecture,  is  the  simple  outline, 
in  parallelogrammic  and  pyramidal  forms,  in  which  the  lines 
are  straight  and  uninterrupted  through  their  entire  length. 
This  simplicity  and  harmony  are  more  apparent  in  the 
Doric  than  in  any  of  the  other  orders,  and  pertain  to  all 
the  temples  of  which  we  have  knowledge.  Nor  can  any 
improvement  be  made  upon  them,  or  any  alteration 
which  does  not  conflict  with  established  principles.  The 
Ionic  and  Corinthian,  or  the  Voluted  and  Foliated  orders, 
do  not  possess  that  harmony  which  pervades  the  Doric,  but 
the  more  beautiful  compositions  are  so  consummate  that 
they  will  ever  be  taken  as  models  of  study. 

It  is  not  the  magnitude  of  the  Grecian  temples  and 
other  works  of  art  which  most  impresses  us.  It  is  not  for 
this  that  they  are  important  models.  It  is  not  for  this  that 
they  are  copied  and  reproduced  in  all  the  modern  nations 
of  Europe.  They  were  generally  small  compared  with 
the  temples  of  Egypt,  or  the  vast  dimensions  of  Roman 
amphitheatres.  Only  three  or  four  would  compare  in 
size  with  a  Gothic  cathedral,  like  the  Parthenon,  the 
Temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia,  and  the  Temple  of  Diana 


CHAP,  iv.]  Roman  Architecture.  157 

at  Ephesus.  Even  the  Pantheon  at  Rome  is  small,  com 
pared  with  the  later  monuments  of  the  Caesars.  The 
traveler  is  always  disappointed  in  contemplating  their 
remains,  so  far  as  size  is  concerned.  But  it  is  their 
matchless  proportions,  their  severe  symmetry,  Matchie^ 
the  orandeur  of  effect,  the  undying  beauty,  the  SJ°JtoQ^ 

o  11  ciiin  temples. 

graceful  form  which  impress  us,  and  make  us 
feel  that  they  are  perfect.  By  the  side  of  the  Colosseum 
they  are  insignificant  in  magnitude.  They  do  not  cover 
acres  like  the  baths  of  Caracalla.  Yet  who  has  copied 
the  Flavian  amphitheatre  ?  Who  erects  an  edifice  after 
the  style  of  the  Thermae?  But  all  artists  copy  the  Par 
thenon.  That,  and  not  the  colossal  monuments  of  the 
Caesars',  reappears  in  the  capitals  of  Europe,  and  stimulates 
the  genius  of  a  Michael  Angelo  or  a  Christopher  Wren. 

The  flourishing  period  of  Greek  architecture  was  dur 
ing  the  period  from  Pericles  to  Alexander  — one  hundred 
arid  thirteen  years.  The  Macedonian  conquest  intro 
duced  more  magnificence  and  less  simplicity.  The  Roman 
conquest  accelerated  the  decline  in  severe  taste,  when 
different  orders  were  used  indiscriminately. 

In  this  state  the  art  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  masters 
of  the  world,  and  they  inaugurated  a  new  era  in  Beginningof 
architecture.  The  art  was  still  essentially  Greek,  * 
although  the  Romans  derived  their  first  knowledge  from 
the  Etruscans.  The  Cloaca  Maxima  was  built  during  the 
reio-n  of  the  second  Tarquin  — the  grandest  monument  of 
the  reign  of  the  kings.  It  is  not  probable  that  temples 
and  other  public  buildings  were  either  beautiful  or  magni 
ficent  until  the  conquest  of  Greece,  when  Grecian  archi 
tects  were  employed.  The  Romans  adopted  the  Corin 
thian  style,  which  they  made  even  more  ornamental,  and 
by  the  successful  combination  of  the  Etruscan  arch  with 
the  Grecian  column,  laid  the  foundation  of  a  new  and 
original  style,  susceptible  of  great  variety  and  magnifi 
cence.  They  entered  into  architecture  with  the  enthusi- 


158  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV 

asm  of  their  teachers,  but,  in  their  passion  for  novelty,  lost 
sight  of  the  simplicity  which  is  the  great  fascination  of  a 
Doric  Temple.  "  And  they  deemed  that  lightness  and 
grace  were  to  be  attained  not  so  much  by  proportion  be 
tween  the  vertical  and  the  horizontal,  as  by  the  compara 
tive  slenderness  of  the  former.  Hence  we  see  a  poverty 
in  Roman  architecture  in  the  midst  of  profuse  ornament. 
The  great  error  was  a  constant  aim  to  lessen  the  diameter, 
while  they  increased  the  elevation,  of  the  columns.  Hence 
the  massive  simplicity  and  severe  grandeur  of  the  ancient 
Doric  disappear  in  the  Roman,  the  characteristics  of  the 
order  being  frittered  down  into  a  multiplicity  of  minute 
details.  " l  And  when  they  used  the  Doric  at  all,  they 
used  the  base,  which  was  never  done  at  Athens.  They 
also  altered  the  Doric  capital,  which  cannot  be  improved. 
Again,  most  of  the  Grecian  Doric  temples  were  peripteral, 
that  is,  were  surrounded  with  pillars  on  all  the  sides.  But 
the  Romans  did  not  build  with  porticoes  even  on  each 
front,  but  only  on  one,  which  had  a  greater  projection 
than  the  Grecian.  They  generally  are  projected  three 
columns.  Many  of  the  Roman  temples  are  circular,  like 
the  Pantheon,  which  has  a  portico  of  eight  columns  pro 
jected  to  the  depth  of  three.  Nor  did  the  Romans  con 
struct  hypsethral  temples,  or  uncovered,  with  internal  col 
umns,  like  the  Greeks.  The  Pantheon  is  an  exception, 
Romans  since  the  dome  has  an  open  eye  ;  and  one  great 

copied  the  •  /•   i  . 

Greeks.  ornament  of  this  beautiful  structure  is  in  the 
arrangement  of  internal  columns  placed  in  the  front  of 
niches,  composed  with  antae,  or  pier-formed  ends  of  walls, 
to  carry  an  entablature  round  under  an  attic  on  which  the 
cupola  rests.  They  also  adopted  coupled  columns,  broken 
and  recessed  entablatures,  and  pedestals,  which  are  con 
sidered  blemishes.  They  again  paid  more  attention  to  the 
interior  than  to  the  exterior  decoration  of  their  palaces  and 
baths,  as  we  may  infer  from  the  ruins  of  Adrian's  villa  at 
Tivoli,  and  the  excavations  of  Pompeii. 

1  Memes,  Sculpture  and  Architecture. 


CHAP,  iv.]  Roman   Corinthian   Order.  159 

The  Roman  Corinthian,  like  the  Greek  orders,  consisted 
of  three  parts,  stylobate,  column,  and  entablature,  but  the 
stylobate  was  much  loftier,  and  was  not  graduated,  except  in 
the  access  before  a  portico.  The  column  varied  from  nine 
and  a  half  to  ten  diameters,  and  was  always  fluted  with 
twenty-four  flutes  and  fillets.  The  height  of  the  capital 
is  a  diameter  and  one  eighth  ;  the  entablature  varies  from 
one  diameter  and  seven  eighths  to  two  diameters  and  a  half. 
The  portico  of  the  Pantheon  is  one  of  the  best  specimens 
of  the  Corinthian  order.  The  entablature  of  the  temple 
of  Jupiter  Stator,  like  that  of  the  Pantheon,  is  two  diame 
ters  and  one  half.  The  pediments  are  steeper  than  those 
made  by  the  Greeks,  varying  in  inclination  from  eighteen 
to  twenty-five  degrees.  The  mouldings  used  in  Roman 
architectural  works  are  the  same  as  the  Grecian  in  general 
form,  although  they  differ  from  them  in  contour.  They 
are  less  delicate  and  graceful,  but  were  used  in  great  pro 
fusion.  Roman  architecture  is  overdone  with  ornament, 
every  moulding  carved,  and  every  straight  surface  sculpt 
ured  with  foliage  or  historical  subjects  in  relief.  The  orna 
ments  of  the  frieze  consist  of  foliage  and  animals,  with  a 
variety  of  other  things.  The  great  exuberance  of  orna 
ment  is  considered  a  defect,  although  when  applied  to  some 
structures  it  is  exceedingly  beautiful.  In  the  time  of  the 
first  Caesars  architecture  had  a  character  of  grandeur  and 
magnificence.  Columns  and  arches  appeared  in  all  the 
leading  public  buildings,  columns  generally  forming  the 
external,  and  arches  the  internal  construction.  Fabric 
after  fabric  arose  on  the  ruins  of  others.  The  Flavii  sup 
planted  the  edifices  of  Nero,  which  ministered  to  de 
bauchery,  by  structures  of  public  utility. 

The  Romans  invented  no  new  principle  in  architecture, 
except  the  arch,  which  was  not  known  to  the  Greeks,  and 
carried  out  by  them  to  greater  perfection  than  by  the  Ro 
mans  ;  but  this,  for  simplicity,  harmony,  and  beauty,  lias 
never  been  surpassed  in  any  age,  or  by  any  nation. 


160  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

The  Romans  were  a  practical  and  utilitarian  people,  and 
needed  for  their  various  structures  greater  economy  of 
material  than  large  blocks  of  stone,  especially  for  such  as 
were  carried  to  great  altitudes.  The  arch  supplied  this 
want,  and  is  perhaps  the  greatest  invention  ever  made  in 
architecture.  No  instance  of  its  adoption  occurs  in  the  con 
struction  of  Greek  edifices,  before  Greece  became  a  part 
of  the  Roman  Empire.  Its  application  dates  back  to  the 
Cloaca  Maxima,  and  may  have  been  of  Etrurian  invention. 
It  was  not  known  to  Egyptians,  or  Persians,  or  Indians,  or 
Greeks.  Some  maintain  that  Archimedes  of  Sicily  was  the 
inventor,  but  to  whomsoever  the  glory  of  the  invention  is 
changes  due,  it  is  certain  that  the  Romans  were  the  first 
Romans.  to  make  a  practical  application  of  its  wonderful 
qualities.  It  enabled  them  to  rear  vast  edifices  into  the 
air  with  the  humblest  materials,  to  build  bridges,  aque 
ducts,  sewers,  amphitheatres,  and  triumphal  arches,  as  well 
as  temples  and  palaces  ;  its  merits  have  never  been  lost 
sight  of  by  succeeding  generations,  and  it  is  at  the  founda 
tion  of  the  magnificent  Gothic  cathedrals  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Its  application  extends  to  domes  and  cupolas, 
to  arched  floors  and  corridors  and  roofs,  and  to  various 
other  parts  of  buildings  where  economy  of  material  and 
labor  is  desired.  It  was  applied  extensively  to  doorways 
and  windows,  and  is  an  ornament  as  well  as  a  utility.  The 
most  imposing  forms  of  Roman  architecture  may  be  traced 
invention  to  a  knowledge  of  the  properties  of  the  arch,  and 
rch<  as  brick  wras  more  extensively  used  than  any  other 
material,  the  arch  was  invaluable.  The  imperial  palace  on 
Mount  Palatine,  the  Pantheon,  except  its  portico  and  in 
ternal  columns,  the  temples  of  Peace,  of  Venus  and  Rome, 
and  of  Minerva  Medica,  were  of  brick.  So  were  the  great 
baths  of  Titus,  Caracalla,  and  Diocletian,  the  villa  of  Adrian, 
the  city  walls,  the  villa  of  Meca3nas  at  Tivoli,  and  most  of 
the  palaces  of  the  nobility  ;  although,  like  many  of  the 
temples,  they  were  faced  with  stone.  The  Colosseum 


CHAP,  iv.]  The  Roman  Arch.  161 

was  of  travertine  faced  with  marble.  It  was  the  custom 
to  stucco  the  surface  of  the  walls,  as  favorable  to  decora 
tions.  In  consequence  of  this  invention,  the  Romans 
erected  a  greater  variety  of  fine  structures  than  either  the 
Greeks  or  Egyptians,  whose  public  edifices  were  chiefly 
confined  to  temples.  The  arch  entered  into  Usegofthe 
almost  every  structure,  public  or  private,  and  arch> 
superseded  the  use  of  long  stone  beams,  which  were  neces 
sary  in  the  Grecian  temples,  as  also  of  wooden  timbers,  in 
the  use  of  which  the  Romans  were  not  skilled,  and  which 
do  not  really  pertain  to  the  art  of  architecture.  An  impos 
ing  building  must  always  be  constructed  of  stone  or  brick. 
The  arch  also  enabled  the  Romans  to  economize  in  the  use 
of  costly  marbles,  of  which  they  were  very  fond,  as  well 
as  of  other  stones.  Some  of  the  finest  columns  were  made 
of  Egyptian  granite,  very  highly  polished. 

The  extensive  application  of  the  arch  doubtless  led  to 
the  deterioration  of  the  Grecian  architecture,  since  it 
blended  columns  with  arcades,  and  thus  impaired  the 
harmony  which  so  peculiarly  marked  the  temples  of 
Athens  and  Corinth.  And  as  taste  became  vitiated  with 
the  decline  of  the  Empire,  monstrous  combinations  took 
place,  which  were  a  great  fall  from  the  simplicity  of  the 
Parthenon,  and  the  interior  of  the  Pantheon. 

But  whatever  defects  marked  the  age  of  Diocletian  and 
Constantine,  it  can  never  be  questioned  that  the  Romans 
carried  architecture  to  a  perfection  rarely  attained  in  our 
times.  They  may  not  have  equaled  the  severe  simplicity 
of  their  teachers,  the  Greeks,  but  they  surpassed  Magnificence 
them  in  the  richness  of  their  decorations,  and  in  architecture. 
all  buildings  designed  for  utility,  especially  in  private 
houses  and  baths  and  theatres. 

The  Romans  do  not  seem  to  have  used  other  than  semi 
circular   arches.     The   Gothic,  or   Pointed,   or   Christian 
architecture,  as  it  has  been  variously  called,  was  the  crea 
tion  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  arose  nearly  simultaneously 
11 


162  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

in  Europe  after  the  first  Crusade,  so  that  it  would  seem  to 
be  of  Eastern  origin.  But  it  was  a  graft  on  the  old  Roman 
arch,  —  in  the  shape  of  an  ellipse  rather  than  a  circle. 
Aside  from  this  invention,  to  which  we  are  indebted  for 
the  most  beautiful  ecclesiastical  structures  ever  erected,  we 
owe  every  tiling  in  architecture  to  the  Greeks  and  Ro 
mans.  We  have  found  out  no  new  principles  which  were 
not  equally  known  to  Vitruvius.  No  one  man  was  the  in 
ventor  or  creator  of  the  wonderful  structures  which  orna 
mented  the  cities  of  the  ancient  world.  We  have  the 
names  of  great  architects,  who  reared  various  and  faultless 
models,  but  they  all  worked  upon  the  same  principles. 
And  these  can  never  be  subverted.  So  that  in  architect 
ure  the  ancients  are  our  schoolmasters,  whose  genius  we 
revere  the  more  we  are  acquainted  with  their  works. 
What  more  beautiful  than  one  of  those  grand  temples 
which  the  heathen  but  cultivated  Greeks  erected  to  the 
worship  of  their  unknown  gods :  the  graduated  and  re 
ceding  stylobate  as  a  base  for  the  fluted  columns,  rising  at 
The  effect  of  regular  distances,  in  all  their  severe  proportion 

col  urn  MS  in  . 

architecture,  and  matchless  harmony,  with  their  richly  carved 
capitals,  supporting  an  entablature  of  heavy  stones,  most 
elaborately  moulded  and  ornamented  with  the  figures  of 
plants  and  animals,  and  rising  above  this,  on  the  ends  of 
the  temple,  or  over  a  portico  several  columns  deep,  the 
pediment,  covered  by  chiseled  cornices,  with  still  richer 
ornaments  rising  from  the  apices  and  at  the  feet ;  all 
carved  in  white  marble,  and  then  spread  over  an  area 
larger  than  any  modern  churches,  making  a  forest  of 
columns  to  bear  aloft  those  ponderous  beams  of  stone,  with 
out  any  thing  tending  to  break  the  continuity  of  horizontal 
lines,  by  which  the  harmony  and  simplicity  of  the  whole 
are  seen.  So  accurately  squared  and  nicely  adjusted  were 
the  stones  and  pillars  of  which  these  temples  were  built, 
that  there  was  scarcely  need  of  even  cement.  Without 
noise  or  confusion  or  sound  of  hammers  did  those  temples 


CHAP,  iv.]  Origin  of  Sculpture.  163 

rise,  since  all  their  parts  were  cat  and  carved  in  the  distant 
quarries,  and  with  mathematical  precision.  And  within 
the  cella,  nearly  concealed  by  the  surrounding  columns, 
were  the  statues  of  the  gods,  and  the  altars  on  which  in 
cense  was  offered,  or  sacrifices  made.  In  every  part, 
interior  and  exterior,  do  we  see  a  matchless  proportion  and 
beauty,  whether  in  the  shaft,  or  the  capital,  or  the  frieze, 
or  the  pilaster,  or  the  pediment,  or  the  cornices,  or  even 
the  mouldings  —  everywhere  grace  and  harmony,  which 
grow  upon  the  mind  the  more  they  are  contemplated. 
The  greatest  evidence  of  the  matchless  creative  genius 
displayed  in  those  architectural  wonders  is  that,  after 
two  thousand  years,  and  with  all  the  inventions  of  Roman 
and  modern  artists,  no  improvement  can  be  made,  and 
those  edifices  which  are  the  admiration  of  our  own  times 
are  deemed  beautiful  as  they  approximate  the  ancient 
models  which  will  forever  remain  objects  of  imitation. 
No  science  can  make  two  and  two  other  than  four.  No 
art  can  make  a  Doric  temple  different  from  the  Parthenon 
without  departing  from  the  settled  principles  of  beauty  and 
proportion  which  all  ages  have  endorsed.  Such  were  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  in  an  art  which  is  one  of  the  greatest 
indices  of  material  civilization,  and  which  by  them  was 
derived  from  geometrical  forms,  or  the  imitation  of 
Nature. 


The  genius  displayed  by  the  ancients  in  sculpture,  is 
even  more  remarkable  than  in  architecture.  It  was  car 
ried  to  perfection,  however,  only  by  the  Greeks.  But 
they  did  not  originate  the  art,  since  we  read  of  sculptured 
images  from  the  remotest  antiquity.  The  earliest  names 
of  sculptors  are  furnished  by  the  Old  Testament.  Assyria 
and  Egypt  are  full  of  relics  to  show  how  early  this  art  was 
cultivated.  It  was  not  carried  to  perfection  as  early,  prob 
ably,  as  architecture ;  but  rude  images  of  gods,  carved  in 


164  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

wood,  are  as  old  as  the  history  of  idolatry.     The  history 
of  sculpture  is  in  fact  identified  with  that  of  idols.     It  was 
from  Phoenicia  that  Solomon    obtained  the  workmen  for 
the  decoration  of  his  Temple.     But  the   Egyptians  were 
probably  the  first  who  made  considerable  advances  in  the 
execution   of  statues.      They  are  rude,  simple,   uniform, 
without  beauty  or  grace,  but  colossal  and  grand.     Nearly 
two  thousand  years  before  Christ,  the  walls  of  Thebes  were 
ornamented  with  sculptured  figures,  even  as  the  gates  of 
Babylon  were  of  sculptured  bronze.     The  dimensions  of 
Egyptian  colossal  figures  surpass  those  of  any  other  nation. 
The  sitting  figures  of  Memnon  at  Thebes  are  fifty  feet  in 
height,  and  the  Sphinx  is  twenty-five,  and  these  are  of 
granite.     The  number  of  colossal  statues  was  almost  in 
credible.     The  sculptures  found  among  the  ruins  of  Carnac 
must  have   been   made  nearly  four  thousand  years   ago.1 
They  exhibit  great  simplicity  of  design,  but  without  much 
variety   of  expression.     They  are    generally  carved  from 
the  hardest  stones,  and  finished  so  nicely  that  we  infer  that 
the   Egyptians  were  acquainted   with  the  art  of  harden 
ing  metals  to  a  degree  not  known  in  our  times.     But  we 
see  no  ideal  grandeur  among  any  of  the  remains  of  Egyp 
tian  sculpture.     However  symmetrical  or  colossal,  there  is 
no  expression,  no  trace  of  emotion,  no  intellectual  force. 
Every  thing  is  calm,  impassive,  imperturbable.     It  was  not 

of^orecran  until  sculPture  came  into  the  hands  of  the  Greeks 
sculpture.  that  any  remarkable  excellence  was  reached.  But 
the  progress  of  development  was  slow.  The  earliest  carv 
ings  were  rude  wooden  images  of  the  gods,  and  more  than 
a  thousand  years  elapsed  before  the  great  masters  were 
produced  which  marked  the  age  of  Pericles. 

It  is  not  my  object  to  give  a  history  of  the  development 
of  the  plastic  art,  but  to  show  the  great  excellence  it  at 
tained  in  the  hands  of  immortal  sculptors. 

The  Greeks  had  an  intuitive  perception  of  the  beautiful, 

1  Wilkinson's  Ancient  Egyptians. 


CHAP.  IV.]        Perfection  of  Grecian  Sculpture.  16 

and  to  this  great  national  trait  we  ascribe  the  wonderful 
progress  which  sculpture  made.  Nature  was  most  care 
fully  studied,  and  that  which  was  most  beautiful  in  Nature 
became  the  object  of  imitation.  They  ever  attained  to  an 
ideal  excellence,  since  they  combined  in  a  single  statue  what 
could  not  be  found  in  a  single  individual,  as  Zeuxis  is  said 
to  have  studied  the  beautiful  forms  of  seven  virgins  of  Cro- 
tona  in  order  to  paint  his  famous  picture  of  Venus.  Great 
as  was  the  beauty  of  Thryne,  or  Aspasia,  or  Lais,  yet  no 
one  of  them  could  have  served  for  a  perfect  model.  And 
it  required  a  great  sensibility  to  beauty  in  order  to  select 
and  idealize  what  was  most  perfect  in  the  human  figure. 
Beauty  was  adored  in  Greece,  and  every  means  were  used 
to  perfect  it,  especially  beauty  of  form,  which  is  the  char 
acteristic  excellence  of  Grecian  statuary.  The  gymnasia 
were  universally  frequented,  and  the  great  prizes  of  the 
games,  bestowed  for  feats  of  strength  and  agility,  were  re 
garded  as  the  highest  honors  which  men  could  receive  — 
the  subject  of  the  poet's  ode  and  the  people's  ad-  Admiraticm 
miration.  Statues  of  the  victors  perpetuated  their  J52$B* 
fame  and  improved  the  sculptor's  art.  From  the  Greeks> 
study  of  these  statues  were  produced  those  great  creations 
which  all  subsequent  ages  have  admired.  And  from  the 
application  of  the  principles  seen  in  these  forms  we  owe 
the  perpetuation  of  the  ideas  of  grandeur  and  beauty  such 
as  no  other  people  have  ever  discovered  and  scarcely  ap 
preciated.  The  sculpture  of  the  human  figure  became  a 
noble  object  of  ambition,  and  was  most  munificently  re 
warded.  Great  artists  arose,  whose  works  adorned  the 
temples  of  Greece,  so  long  as  she  preserved  her  indepen- 
ence ;  and  when  it  was  lost,  their  priceless  productions 
were  scattered  over  Asia  and  Europe.  The  Romans  espe 
cially  seized  what  was  most  prized,  whether  or  not  they 
could  tell  what  was  most  perfect.  Greece  lived  ^igh  estima 
in  her  marble  statues  more  than  in  her  govern-  %£*£*£ 
ment  or  laws.  And  when  we  remember  the  es-  the  GreekSl 


r»»lV 


JL. 


166  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

timation  in  which  sculpture  was  held,  the  great  prices  paid 
for  masterpieces,  the  care  and  attention  with  which  they 
were  guarded  and  preserved,  and  the  innumerable  works 
which  were  produced,  filling  all  the  public  buildings,  espe 
cially  consecrated  places,  and  even  open  spaces,  and  the 
houses  of  the  rich  and  great,  —  calling  from  all  classes 
admiration  and  praise,  —  it  is  improbable  that  so  great  per 
fection  will  ever  be  reached  again  in  those  figures  which 
are  designed  to  represent  beauty  of  form.  Even  the  com 
paratively  few  statues  which  have  survived  the  wars  and 
violence  of  two  thousand  years,  convince  us  that  the  mod 
erns  can  only  imitate.  They  can  produce  no  creations 
which  were  not  surpassed  by  Athenian  artists.  "  No  me 
chanical  copying  of  Greek  statues,  however  skillful  the 
copyist,  can  ever  secure  for  modern  sculpture  the  same 
noble  and  effective  character  it  possessed  among  the 
Greeks,  for  the  simple  reason  that  the  imitation,  close  as 
may  be  the  resemblance,  is  but  the  result  of  the  eye  and 
hand,  while  the  original  is  the  expression  of  a  true  and 
deeply  felt  sentiment.  Art  was  not  sustained  by  the  pat 
ronage  of  a  few  who  affect  to  have  what  is  called  taste. 
In  Greece,  the  artist,  having  a  common  feeling  for  the 
beautiful  with  his  countrymen,  produced  his  works  for  the 
public,  which  were  erected  in  places  of  honor  and  dedi 
cated  in  temples  of  the  gods."  l 

But  it  was  not  until  the  Persian  wars  awakened  in 
Greece  the  slumbering  consciousness  of  national  power, 
and  Athens  became  the  central  point  of  Grecian  civiliza 
tion,  that  sculpture,  like  architecture  and  painting,  reached 


and    its  culminating;  point  of  excellence,  under  Phid- 

hiscontem-       . 

poraries.  ias  and  his  contemporaries.  Great  artists,  how 
ever,  had  previously  made  themselves  famous,  like  Miron, 
Polycletus,  and  Ageladas  ;  but  the  great  riches  which 
flowed  into  Athens  at  this  time  gave  a  peculiar  stimulus  to 
art,  especially  under  the  encouragement  of  such  a  ruler  as 

1  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  "  Sculpture,"  R.  W.  T. 


CHAP,  iv  ]  Colossal  Statues.  167 

Pericles,  whose  age  was  the  golden  era  of  Grecian  history. 
Pheidias  or  Phidias  was  to  sculpture  what  ^Eschylus  was  to 
tragic  poetry,  sublime  and  grand.  He  was  born  four  hun 
dred  and  eighty-four  years  before  Christ,  and  was  the  pupil 
of  Ageladas.  He  stands  at  the  head  of  the  ancient  sculpt 
ors,  not  from  what  we  know  of  him,  for  his  masterpieces 
have  perished,  but  from  the  estimation  in  which  he  was 
held  by  the  greatest  critics  of  antiquity.  It  was  to  him 
that  Pericles  intrusted  the  adornment  of  the  Parthenon, 
and  the  numerous  and  beautiful  sculptures  of  the  frieze  and 
the  pediment  were  the  work  of  artists  whom  he  directed. 
His  great  work  in  that  wonderful  edifice  was  the  statue  of 
the  goddess  Minerva  herself,  made  of  gold  and  ivory,  forty 
feet  in  height,  standing  victorious  with  a  spear  in  her  left 
hand  and  an  image  of  victory  in  her  right ;  girded  with  the 
aegis,  with  helmet  on  her  head,  and  her  shield  resting  by 
her  side.  The  cost  of  this  statue  may  be  estimated  when 
the  gold  alone  of  which  it  was  composed  was  valued  at 
forty-four  talents.1  Another  of  his  famous  works  was  a 
colossal  bronze  statue  of  Athena  Promaclms,  sixty  feet  in 
height,  on  the  Acropolis,  between  the  Propylsea  and  the 
Parthenon.  But  both  of  these  yielded  to  the  colossal 

statue  of  Zeus  in  his  great  temple  at  Olympia,   The  statue 
T  .         .    .  p        />      i  •  i          of  Zeu»  by 

represented  in  a  sitting  posture,  forty  feet  Ingli,  on  Phidias. 

a  pedestal  of  twenty.  In  this,  his  greatest  work,  the  artist 
sought  to  embody  the  idea  of  majesty  and  repose,  —  of  a 
supreme  deity  no  longer  engaged  in  war  with  Titans  and 
Giants,  but  enthroned  as  a  conqueror,  ruling  with  a  nod 
the  subject  world,  and  giving  his  blessing  to  those  victories 
which  gave  glory  to  the  Greeks.2  So  famous  was  this 

1  This  sum  was  equal  to  $500,000  of  our  money,  an  immense  sum  in  that  age. 
Some  critics  suppose  that  this  statue  was  overloaded  with  ornament,  but  all  an 
tiquity  was  unanimous  in  its  admiration.     The  exactness  and  finish  of  detail 
were  as  remarkable  as  the  grandeur  of  the  proportions. 

2  The  god  was  seated  on  a  throne.     Ebony,  gold,  ivory,  and  precious  stones 
formed,  with  a  multitude  of  sculptured  and  painted  figures,  the  wonderful  com 
position  of  this  throne. 


168  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

statue,  which  was  regarded  as  the  masterpiece  of  Grecian 
art,  that  it  was  considered  a  calamity  to  die  without  seeing 
it ;  and  this  served  for  a  model  for  all  subsequent  repre 
sentations  of  majesty  and  power  in  repose  among  the  an 
cients.  It  was  removed  to  Constantinople  by  Theodosius  I., 
and  was  destroyed  by  fire  in  the  year  475.  Phidias  exe 
cuted  various  other  famous  works,  which  have  perished ; 
but  even  those  that  were  executed  under  his  superintend 
ence,  that  have  come  down  to  our  times,  like  the  statues 
which  ornamented  the  pediment  of  the  Parthenon,  are 
among  the  finest  specimens  of  art  which  exist,  and  exhibit 
the  most  graceful  and  appropriate  forms  which  could  have 
been  selected,  uniting  grandeur  with  simplicity,  and  beauty 
with  accuracy  of  anatomical  structure.  His  distinguish 
ing  excellence  was  ideal  beauty,  and  that  of  the  sublimest 
order.1 

Of  all  the  wonders  and  mysteries  of  ancient  art,  the 
Colossal  colossal  statues  of  ivory  and  gold  were  perhaps 
iwryand  tne  most  remarkable,  and  the  difficulty  of  exe 
cuting  them  has  been  set  forth  by  the  ablest  of 
modern  critics,  like  Winkelmann,  Heyne,  and  De  Quincy. 
"  The  grandeur  of  their  dimensions,  the  perfection  of  their 
workmanship,  the  richness  of  their  materials  ;  their  maj 
esty,  beauty,  and  ideal  truth  ;  the  splendor  of  the  archi 
tecture  and  pictorial  decoration  with  which  they  were  as 
sociated,  all  conspired  to  impress  the  beholder  with  wonder 
and  awe,  and  induce  a  belief  of  the  actual  presence  of  the 
god." 

After  the  Peloponnesian  War,  a  new  school  of  art  arose 
in  Athens,  which  appealed  more  to  the  passions.  Of  this 
The  school  school  was  Praxiteles,  who  aimed  to  please,  with- 
ofpraxiteh*.  Qut  seek|ng  to  e]evate  or  instruct.  No  one  has 
probably  ever  surpassed  him  in  execution.  He  wrought 
in  bronze  and  marble,  and  was  one  of  the  artists  who 
adorned  the  Mausoleum  of  Artemisia.  Without  attempt- 

1  Muller,  De  Phutice  Vita. 


CHAP,  iv.]  Praxiteles  and  Scopas.  169 

ing  the  sublime  impersonation  of  the  deity,  in  which 
Phidias  excelled,  he  was  unsurpassed  in  the  softer  graces 
and  beauties  of  the  human  form,  especially  in  female  fig 
ures.  His  most  famous  work  was  an  undraped  statue  of 
Venus,  for  his  native  town  of  Cnidus,  which  was  so  re 
markable  that  people  flocked  from  all  parts  of  Greece  to 
see  it.  He  did  not  aim  at  ideal  majesty  so  much  as  ideal 
gracefulness,  and  his  works  were  imitated  from  the  most 
beautiful  living  models,  and  hence  expressed  only  the  ideal 
of  sensual  charms.  It  is  probable  that  the  Venus  de  Med 
ici  of  Cleomenes  was  a  mere  copy  of  the  Aphrodite  of  Prax 
iteles,  which  was  so  highly  extolled  by  the  ancient  authors. 
It  was  of  Parian  marble,  and  modeled  from  the  celebrated 
Phryne.  His  statues  of  Dionysus  also  expressed  the  most 
consummate  physical  beauty,  representing  the  god  as  a 
beautiful  youth,  crowned  with  ivy,  engirt  with  a  nebris,  and 
expressing  tender  and  dreamy  emotions.  Praxiteles  sculpt 
ured  several  figures  of  Eros,  or  the  god  of  love,  of  which 
that  at  Thespia?  attracted  visitors  to  the  city  in  the  time  of 
Cicero.  It  was  subsequently  carried  to  Rome,  and  per 
ished  by  a  conflagration  in  the  time  of  Titus.  One  of  the 
most  celebrated  statues  of  this  artist  was  an  Apollo,  many 
copies  of  which  still  exist.  His  works  were  very  numerous, 
but  chiefly  from  the  circle  of  Dionysus,  Aphrodite,  and 
Eros,  in  which  adoration  for  corporeal  attractions  is  the 
most  marked  peculiarity,  and  for  which  the  artist  was 
fitted  by  his  life  with  the  hetaerae. 

Scopas  was  his  contemporary,  and  was  the  author  of  the 
celebrated  group  of  Niobe,  which  is  one  of  the 
chief  ornaments  of   the  gallery  of  sculpture  at 
Florence.      He  flourished  about  three  hundred  and  fifty 
years  before  Christ,  and  wrought  chiefly  in  marble.     He 
was  employed  in  decorating  the  Mausoleum  which  Arte 
misia  erected  to  her  husband,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the 
world.     His  masterpiece  is  said  to  have  been  a  group  rep 
resenting  Achilles  conducted  to  the  island  of  Leuce  by  the 


170  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

divinities  of  the  sea,  which  ornamented  the  shrine  of  Do- 
mitius  in  the  Flaminian  Circus.  In  this,  tender  grace, 
heroic  grandeur,  daring  power,  and  luxurious  fullness  of 
life  were  combined  with  wonderful  harmony.1  Like  the 
other  great  artists  of  this  school,  there  was  the  grandeur 
and  sublimity  for  which  Phidias  was  celebrated,  but  a 
greater  refinement  and  luxury,  and  skill  in  the  use  of 
drapery. 

Sculpture  in  Greece  culminated,  as  an  art,  in  Lysippus, 
who  worked  chiefly  in  bronze.  He  is  said  to 
have  executed  fifteen  hundred  statues,  and  was 
much  esteemed  by  Alexander  the  Great,  by  whom  he  was 
extensively  patronized.  He  represented  men,  not  as  they 
were,  but  as  they  appeared  to  be  ;  and,  if  he  exaggerated, 
he  displayed  great  energy  of  action.  He  aimed  to  idealize 
merely  human  beauty,  and  his  imitation  of  Nature  was 
carried  out  in  the  minutest  details.  None  of  his  works  are 
extant ;  but  as  he  alone  was  permitted  to  make  the  statue 
of  Alexander,  we  infer  that  he  had  no  equals.  The  Em 
peror  Tiberius  transferred  one  of  his  statues,  that  of  an 
athlete,  from  the  baths  of  Agrippa  to  his  own  chamber, 
which  so  incensed  the  people  that  he  was  obliged  to  restore 
His  favorite  subject  was  Hercules,  and  a  co- 
statue  Of  t}n-s  g0(j  was  carrie(i  to  Rome  by 

Fabius  Maximus,  when  he  took  Tarentum,  and  afterwards 
was  transferred  to  Constantinople.  The  Farnese  Hercules 
and  the  Belvidere  Torso  are  probably  copies  of  this  work. 
He  left  many  eminent  scholars,  among  whom  were  Chares, 
who  executed  the  famous  Colossus  of  Rhodes,  Agesan- 
der,  Polydorus,  and  Athenodorus,  who  sculptured  the 
group  of  the  "  Laocoon."  The  Rhodian  School  was  the 
immediate  offshoot  from  the  school  of  Lysippus  at  Sicyon, 
and  from  this  small  island  of  Rhodes  the  Romans,  when 
they  conquered  it,  carried  away  three  thousand  statues. 
The  Colossus  was  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world,  seventy 

1  Muller,  125. 


CHAP,  iv.]       Degeneracy  of  Art  after  Lysippus.  171 

cubits  in  height,  and  the  Laocoon  is  a  perfect  miracle  of 
art,  in  which  group  pathos  is  exhibited  in  the  highest  de 
gree  ever  attained  in  sculpture.  It  was  discovered  in  1506 
near  the  baths  of  Titus,  and  is  one  of  the  choicest  remains 
of  ancient  plastic  art. 

The  great  artists  of  antiquity  did  not  confine  themselves 
to  the  representation  of  man  ;  but  they  also  carved  animals 
with  exceeding  accuracy  and  beauty.  Nicias  was  famous 
for  his  dogs,  Myron  for  his  cows,  and  Lysippus  for  his 
horses.  Praxiteles  composed  his  celebrated  lion  after  a 
living  animal.  "  The  horses  of  the  frieze  of  the  Elgin 
Marbles  appear  to  live  and  move  ;  to  roll  their  eyes,  to 
gallop,  prance,  and  curvet ;  the  veins  of  their  faces  and 
legs  seem  distended  with  circulation.  The  beholder  is 
charmed  with  the  deer-like  lightness  and  elegance  of  their 
make  ;  and  although  the  relief  is  not  above  an  inch  from 
the  back- ground,  and  they  are  so  much  smaller  than 
nature,  we  can  scarcely  suffer  reason  to  persuade  us  they 
are  not  alive."  l 

The  Greeks  also  carved  gems,  cameos,  medals,  and  vases, 
with  unapproachable  excellence.    Very  few  speci-   Cameogand 
mens  have  come  down  to  our  times,  but  those 
which  we  possess  show  great  beauty  both  in  design  and 
execution. 

Grecian  statuary  commenced  with  ideal  representations 
of  deities,  and  was  carried  to  the  greatest  perfection  by  Phid 
ias  in  his  statues  of  Jupiter  and  Minerva.  Then  succeeded 
the  school  of  Praxiteles,  in  which  the  figures  of  gods  and 
goddesses  were  still  represented,  but  in  mortal  forms.  The 
school  of  Lysippus  was  famous  for  the  statues  of  celebrated 
men,  especially  in  cities  where  Macedonian  rulers  resided. 
Artists  were  expected  henceforth  to  glorify  kings  and  pow 
erful  nobles  and  rulers  by  portrait  statues.  The  plastic  art 
then  degenerated.  Nor  were  works  of  original  genius  pro 
duced,  but  rather  copies  or  varieties  from  the  three  great 

l  Flaxman,  Lectures  on  Sculpture. 


172  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

schools  to  which  allusion  has  been  made.  Sculpture  may 
have  multiplied,  but  not  new  creations  ;  although  some 
imitations  of  great  merit  were  produced,  like  the  "  Her 
maphrodite,"  the  "  Torso,"  the  Farnese  "  Hercules,"  and 
sack  of  the  the  "  Fighting  Gladiator."  When  Corinth  was 
CiS.an  sacked  by  Mummius,  some  of  the  finest  statues 
of  Greece  were  carried  to  Rome,  and  after  the  civil  war 
between  Caesar  and  Pompey  the  Greek  artists  emigrated  to 
Italy.  The  fall  of  Syracuse  introduced  many  works  of 
priceless  value  into  Rome  ;  but  it  was  from  Athens,  Del 
phi,  Corinth,  Elis,  and  other  great  centres  of  art,  that  the 
richest  treasures  were  brought.  Greece  was  despoiled  to 
ornament  Italy.  The  Romans  did  not  create  a  school  of 
sculpture.  They  borrowed  wholly  from  the  Greeks,  yet 
made,  especially  in  the  time  of  Hadrian,  many  beautiful 
statues.  They  were  fond  of  this  art,  and  all  eminent  men 
had  statues  erected  to  their  memory.  The  busts  of  em 
perors  were  found  in  every  great  city,  and  Rome  was  filled 
with  statues.  The  monuments  of  the  Romans  were  even 
more  numerous  than  those  of  the  Greeks,  and  among  diem 
some  admirable  portraits  are  found.  These  sculptures  did 
not  express  that  consummation  of  beauty  and  grace,  of 
refinement  and  sentiment,  which  marked  the  Greeks  ;  but 
the  imitations  were  good.  Art  had  reached  its  perfection 
under  Lysippus  ;  there  was  nothing  more  to  learn.  Genius 
in  that  department  could  soar  no  higher.  It  will  never 
rise  to  loftier  heights. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  purest  forms  of  Grecian  art 
arose  in  its  earlier  stages.  In  a  moral  point  of  view,  sculpt 
ure  declined  from  the  time  of  Phidias.  It  was  prosti- 
tuted  at  Rome  under  the  emperors.  The  speci- 
s  mens  which  have  often  been  found  among  the 
ruins  of  ancient  baths  make  us  blush  for  human  nature. 
The  skill  of  execution  did  not  decline  for  several  centu 
ries  ;  but  the  lofty  ideal  was  lost  sight  of,  and  gross  ap 
peals  to  human  passions  were  made  by  those  who  sought  to 


CHAP,  iv.]          The  G-reeks  the  Schoolmasters.  173 

please  corrupt  leaders  of  society  in  an  effeminate  age. 
The  turgidity  and  luxuriance  of  art  gradually  passed  into 
tameness  and  poverty.  The  reliefs  on  the  Arch  of  Con- 
stantine  are  rude  and  clumsy  compared  with  those  on  the 
Column  of  Marcus  Aurelius. 

But  I  do  not  wish  to  describe  the  decline  of  art,  or  enu 
merate  the  names  of  the  celebrated  masters  who  exalted 
sculpture  in  the  palmy  days  of  Pericles,  or  even  Alexan 
der.  I  simply  allude  to  sculpture  as  an  art  which  reached 
a  great  perfection  among  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  as  we 
have  a  right  to  infer  from  the  specimens  which  have  been 
preserved.  How  many  more  must  have  perished,  we  may 
infer  from  the  criticisms  of  the  ancient  authors !  The 
finest  productions  of  our  own  age  are  in  a  measure  repro 
ductions.  They  cannot  be  called  creations,  like  the  statue 
of  the  Olympian  Jove.  Even  the  Moses  of  Imitationof 
Michael  Angelo  is  a  Grecian  god,  and  the  Greek  anci«"tart- 
Slave  a  copy  of  an  ancient  Venus.  The  very  tints  which 
have  been  admired  in  some  of  the  works  of  modern  sculpt 
ors  are  borrowed  from  Praxiteles,  who  succeeded  in  giv 
ing  an  appearance  of  living  flesh.  The  Museum  of  the 
Vatican  alone  contains  several  thousand  specimens  of  an 
cient  sculpture  which  have  been  found  among  the  debris 
of  former  magnificence,  many  of  which  are  the  produc 
tions  of  Grecian  artists  transported  to  Rome.  Among 
them  are  antique  copies  of  the  Cupid  and  the  Faun  of 
Praxiteles,  the  statue  of  Demosthenes,  the  Minerva  Med- 
ica,  the  Athlete  of  Lysippus,  the  Torso  Belvidere,  sculpt 
ured  by  Apollonius,  the  Belvidere  Antinous,  of  faultless 
anatomy  and  a  study  for  Domenichino,  the  Laocoon,  so 
panegyrized  by  Pliny,  the  Apollo  Belvidere  the  work  of 
Agasias  of  Ephesus,  the  Sleepy  Ariadne,  with  numerous 
other  statues  of  gods  and  goddesses,  emperors,  philosophers, 
poets,  and  statesmen  of  antiquity.  The  Dying  Gladiator, 
which  ornaments  the  capitol,  alone  is  a  magnificent  proof 
of  the  perfection  to  which  sculpture  was  brought  centuries 


174  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

after  the  art  had  culminated  at  Athens.  And  these  are 
only  a  few  which  stand  out  among  the  twenty  thousand 
recovered  statues  which  now  embellish  Italy,  to  say  nothing 
of  those  which  are  scattered  over  Europe.  We  have  the 
names  of  hundreds  of  artists  who  were  famous  in  their  day. 
Not  merely  the  figures  of  men  are  chiseled,  but  animals 
and  plants.  Nature,  in  all  her  forms,  was  imitated  ;  and 
not  merely  Nature,  but  the  dresses  of  the  ancients  are  per 
petuated  in  marble.  No  modern  sculptor  has  equaled,  in 
delicacy  of  finish,  the  draperies  even  of  those  ancient  stat 
ues,  as  they  appear  to  us  after  the  exposure  and  accidents 
of  two  thousand  years.  No  one,  after  a  careful  study  of 
the  museums  of  Europe,  can  question  that,  of  all  the  na 
tions  who  have  claimed  to  be  civilized,  the  ancient  Greek 
and  Roman  deserve  a  proud  preeminence  in  an  art  which 
is  still  regarded  as  among  the  highest  triumphs  of  human 
genius.  All  these  matchless  productions  of  antiquity,  it 
should  be  remembered,  are  the  result  of  native  genius 
alone,  without  the  aid  of  Christian  ideas.  Nor,  with  the 
aid  of  Christianity,  are  we  sure  that  any  nation  will  ever 
soar  to  loftier  heights  than  did  the  Greeks  in  that  proud 
realm  which  was  consecrated  to  Paganism. 

We  are  not  so  certain  in  regard  to  the  excellence  of  the 
ancients  in  the  art  of  painting  as  we  are  in  reference  to 
sculpture  and  architecture,  since  so  few  specimens  have 
been  preserved.  We  have  only  the  testimony  of  the  an 
cients  themselves  ;  and  as  they  had  so  severe  a  taste  and 
so  great  susceptibility  to  beauty  in  all  its  forms,  we  cannot 
suppose  that  their  notions  were  crude  in  this  great  art 
which  the  moderns  have  carried  to  so  great  perfection.  In 
this  art  the  moderns  may  be  superior,  especially  in  per 
spective  and  drawing,  and  light  and  shade.  No  age,  we 
fancy,  can  surpass  Italy  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  cen 
turies,  when  the  genius  of  Raphael,  Correggio,  and  Do- 
menichino  blazed  with  such  wonderful  brilliancy. 


CHAP,  iv.]  Antiquity  of  Painting.  175 

Nevertheless,  we  read  of  celebrated  schools  among  the 
ancients,  all  of  which  recognized  form  as  the  great  prin 
ciple  and  basis  of  the  art,  even  like  the  moderns.  The 
schools  of  Sicyon,  Corinth,  Athens,  and  Rhodes  were  in 
debted  for  their  renown,  like  those  of  Bologna,  Florence, 
and  Rome,  to  their  strict  observance  of  this  fundamental 
law. 

Painting,  in  some  form,  is  very  ancient,  though  not  so 
ancient  as  the  temples  of  the  gods  and  the  statues  Antiquityof 
which  were  erected  to  their  worship.  It  arose  Paiutins- 
with  the  susceptibility  to  beauty  of  form  and  color,  and 
with  the  view  of  conveying  thoughts  and  emotions  of  the 
soul  by  imitation.  The  walls  of  Babylon  were  painted 
after  Nature  with  different  species  of  animals  and  combats. 
Semiramis  was  represented  on  horseback,  striking  a  leop 
ard  with  a  dart,  and  her  husband  Ninus  wounding  a  lion. 
Ezekiel  (viii.  10)  represents  various  idols  and  beasts  por 
trayed  upon  the  walls,  and  even  princes,  painted  in  ver 
milion,  with  girdles  around  their  loins  (xxiii.  14,  15).  In 
ages  almost  fabulous  there  were  some  rude  attempts  in  this 
art,  which  probably  arose  from  the  coloring  of  statues  and 
reliefs.  The  wooden  chests  of  Egyptian  mummies  are 
painted  and  written  with  religious  subjects,  but  the  colors 
were  laid  without  regard  to  light  and  shade.  Painting 
The  Egyptians  did  not  seek  to  represent  the  pas-  Egyptians6 
sions  and  emotions  which  agitate  the  soul,  but  rather  to 
authenticate  events  and  actions  ;  and  hence  their  paint 
ings,  like  hieroglyphics,  are  inscriptions.  It  was  their  great 
festivals  and  religious  rites  which  they  sought  to  perpet 
uate,  not  ideas  of  beauty  or  grace.  Hence  their  paintings 
abound  with  dismembered  animals,  plants,  and  flowers,  cen 
sers,  entrails,  —  whatever  was  used  in  their  religious  wor 
ship.  In  Greece,  also,  the  original  painting  consisted  in 
coloring  statues  and  reliefs  of  wood  and  clay.  At  Corinth, 
painting  was  early  united  with  the  fabrication  of  vases,  on 
which  were  rudely  painted  figures  of  men  and  animals. 


176  Art  in  the  Roman  Umpire.  [CHAP.  IV 

Among  the  Etruscans,  before  Rome  was  founded,  it  is  said 
there  were  beautiful  paintings,  and  it  is  probable  they  were 
advanced  in  art  before  the  Greeks.  There  were  paintings 
in  some  of  the  old  Etruscan  cities  which  the  Roman  em 
perors  wished  to  remove,  so  much  admired  were  they  even 
in  the  days  of  the  greatest  splendor.  The  ancient  Etrus 
can  vases  are  famous  for  designs  which  have  never  been 
exceeded  in  purity  of  form,  but  it  is  probable  that  these 
were  copied  from  the  Greeks. 

But  whether  the  Greeks  or  the  Etruscans  were  the 
first  to  paint,  the  art  was  certainly  carried  to  the  greatest 
perfection  among  the  former.  The  development  of  it  was, 
like  all  arts,  very  gradual.  It  probably  commenced  by 
drawing  the  outline  of  a  shadow,  without  intermediate 
markings  ;  the  next  step  was  the  complete  outline  with 
the  inner  markings,  such  as  are  represented  on  the  ancient 
vases,  or  like  the  designs  of  Flaxman.  They  were  origi 
nally  practiced  on  a  white  ground.  Then  light  and  shade 
were  introduced,  and  then  the  application  of  colors  in  ac 
cordance  with  Nature.  We  read  of  a  great  painting  by 
Bularchus,  of  the  battle  of  Magnete,  purchased  by  a  king 
of  Lydia  seven  hundred  and  eighteen  years  before  Christ. 
And  as  the  subject  was  a  battle,  it  must  have  represented 
the  movement  of  figures,  although  we  know  nothing  of 
the  coloring,  or  of  the  real  excellence  of  the  work,  except 
that  the  artist  was  paid  munificently.  Cimon  of 
Cleona  is  the  first  great  name  connected  with  the 
art  in  Greece,  and  is  praised  by  Pliny,  to  whom  we  owe 
the  history  of  ancient  painting  more  than  to  any  other  au 
thor.  He  was  contemporary  with  Dionysius  in  the  eightieth 
Olympiad.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  drawing  simply  the 
outlines  of  his  figures,  such  as  we  see  in  the  oldest  painted 
vases,  but  he  also  represented  limbs,  and  folds  of  garments. 
He  invented  the  art  of  foreshortening,  or  the  various  posi 
tions  of  figures,  as  they  appear  when  looking  upward  or 
downward  and  sideways,  and  hence  is  the  first  painter  of 


CHAP,  iv.]  Polygnotus.  177 

perspective.      He  first  made  muscular  articulations,  indi 
cated  the  veins,  and  gave  natural  folds  to  drapery.1 

A  much  greater  painter  than  he  was  Polygnotus  of 
Thasos,  the  contemporary  of  Phidias,  who  came  to  Athens 
about  the  year  463  B.  c.,  one  of  the  greatest  geniuses  of 
any  age,  and  one  of  the  most  magnanimous  ;  and  had  the 
good  fortune  to  live  in  an  age  of  exceeding  intellectual 
activity.  He  was  employed  on  the  public  buildings  of 
Athens,  and  on  the  great  temple  of  Delphi,  the  hall  of 
which  he  painted  gratuitously.  He  also  decorated  the 
Propylsea,  which  was  erected  under  the  superintendence 
of  Phidias.  His  greatness  lay  in  statuesque  Greatne880f 
painting,  which  he  brought  nearly  to  perfection  and  his°tus 
by  the  ideal  expression,  the  accurate  drawing,  sch°o1- 
and  improved  coloring.  He  used  but  few  colors,  and  soft 
ened  the  rigidity  of  his  predecessors  by  making  the  mouth 
of  beauty  smile.  He  was  the  first  who  painted  woman 
with  brilliant  drapery  and  variegated  head-dresses.  He 
gave  great  expression  to  the  face  and  figure,  and  his  pict 
ures  were  models  of  excellence  for  the  beauty  of  the  eye 
brows,  the  blush  upon  the  cheeks,  and  the  gracefulness  of 
the  draperies.  He  was  a  great  epic  painter,  as  Phidias 
was  a  sculptor,  and  Homer  a  poet,  since  he  expressed  not 
passion  and  emotion  only,  but  ideal  character.  He  imi 
tated  the  personages  and  the  subjects  of  the  old  mythol 
ogy,  and  treated  them  in  an  epic  spirit.  He  strove,  like 
Phidias,  to  express  character  in  repose.  His  subjects 
were  almost  invariably  taken  from  Homer  and  the  Epic 
cycle.  His  pictures  had  nothing  of  that  elaborate  group 
ing,  aided  by  the  powers  of  perspective,  so  much  admired 
in  modern  art.  His  figures  were  grouped  in  regular  lines, 
as  in  the  bas-reliefs  upon  a  frieze.  He  painted  on  panels 
which  were  afterward  let  into  the  walls.  He  used  the 
pencil,  instead  of  painting  in  encaustic  with  the  cestrum. 

Among   the   works   of    Polygnotus,    as   mentioned   by 

1  Pliny,  xxxv.  34. 
12 


178  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  rv. 

Pliny,1  are  his  paintings  in  the  Temple  at  Delphi,  in  the 
Portico  called  Poecile  at  Athens,  in  the  Propylsea  of  the 
Acropolis,  in  the  Temple  of  Theseus,  and  in  the  Temple 
of  the  Dioscuri  at  Athens.  He  took  his  subjects  from  the 
whole  range  of  Epic  poetry,  but  we  know  nothing  of  them 
except  from  the  praises  of  his  contemporaries.2  His  great 
merit  is  said  to  have  consisted  in  accurate  drawing,  and  in 
Peculiarities  giving  grace  and  charm  to  his  female  figures. 
tils1'01  He  painted  in  a  truly  religious  spirit,  and  upon 

symmetrical  principles,  with  great  grandeur  and  freedom, 
resembling  Michael  Angelo  more  than  any  other  modern 
artist.  Like  the  Greeks,  he  painted  with  wax,  resins,  and 
in  water  colors,  to  which  the  proper  consistency  was  given 
with  gum  and  glue.  The  use  of  oil  was  unknown.  The 
artists  painted  upon  wood,  clay,  plaster,  stone,  parchment, 
but  not  upon  canvas,  which  was  not  used  till  the  time  of 
Nero.  They  painted  upon  tablets  or  panels,  and  not  upon 
the  walls.  These  panels  were  framed  and  encased  in  the 
walls.  The  style  or  cestrum  used  in  drawing,  and  for 
spreading  the  wax  colors,  was  pointed  on  one  end  and  flat 
on  the  other,  and  generally  made  of  metal.  Wax  was 
prepared  by  purifying  and  bleaching,  and  then  mixed  with 
colors.  When  painting  was  practiced  in  water  colors,  glue 
was  used  with  the  white  of  an  egg  or  with  gums,  but  wax 
and  resins  were  also  worked  with  water,  with  certain  prep 
arations.  This  latter  was  called  encaustic,  and  was,  accord 
ing  to  Plutarch,  the  most  durable  of  all  methods.  It  was 
not  generally  adopted  till  the  time  of  Alexander  the  Great. 
Wax  was  a  most  essential  ingredient,  since  it  prevented 
the  colors  from  cracking.  Encaustic  painting  was  prac 
ticed  both  with  the  cestrum  and  the  pencil,  and  the  colors 
were  also  burnt  in.  Fresco  was  used  for  coloring  walls, 
which  were  divided  into  compartments  or  panels.  The 
Fresco  composition  of  the  stucco,  and  the  method  of 
i>:'.iuttng.  preparing  the  walls  for  painting,  is  described  by 

i  H.  N.  xxx.  9,  s.  35.  2  Pausanias,  x.  25-31. 


CHAP,  iv.]  Fresco  Painting.  179 

the  ancient  writers  :  "  They  first  covered  the  walls  with 
a  layer  of  ordinary  plaster,  over  which,  when  dry,  were 
successively  added  three  other  layers  of  a  finer  quality, 
mixed  with  sand.  Above  these  were  placed  three  layers 
of  a  composition  of  chalk  and  marble-dust,  the  upper  one 
being  laid  on  before  the  under  one  was  dry,  by  which  pro 
cess  the  different  layers  were  so  bound  together  that  the 
whole  mass  formed  one  beautiful  and  solid  slab,  resembling 
marble,  and  was  capable  of  being  detached  from  the  wall 
and  transported  in  a  wooden  frame  to  any  distance.  The 
colors  were  applied  when  the  composition  was  still  wet. 
The  fresco  wall,  when  painted,  was  covered  with  an  en 
caustic  varnish,  both  to  heighten  the  color  and  preserve 
it  from  the  effects  of  the  sun  or  the  weather.  But  this 
process  required  so  much  care,  and  was  attended  with  so 
much  expense,  that  it  was  used  only  in  the  better  houses 
and  palaces."  The  later  discoveries  at  Pompeii  show  the 
same  correctness  of  design  in  painting  as  in  sculpture,  and 
also  considerable  perfection  in  coloring.  The  great  artists 
of  Greece  were  both  sculptors  and  painters,  like  Michael 
Angelo.  Phidias  and  Euphranor,  Zeuxis  and  Protogenes, 
Polygnotus  and  Lysippus,  were  both.  And  the  ancient 
writers  praise  the  paintings  of  these  great  artists  as  much 
as  their  sculpture.  The  Aldobrandini  Marriage,  found  on 
the  Esquiline  Mount,  during  the  pontificate  of  Clement 
VIII.,  and  placed  in  the  Vatican  by  Pius  VII.,  is  admired 
both  for  drawing  and  color.  Polygnotus  was  praised  by 
Aristotle  for  his  designs  and  by  Lucian  for  his  color.1 

Dionysius  and  Micon  were  the  great  contemporaries  of 
Polygnotus,  the  former  of  whom  was  celebrated  contem- 

.  .  .  poraries  of 

for  his  portraits.     His  pictures  were  deficient  in 


the  ideal,  but  were  remarkable  for  expression  and  ele 
gant  drawing.2  Micon  was  particularly  skilled  in  paint 
ing  horses,  and  was  the  first  who  used  for  a  color  the 

1  Poetica  of  Aristotle,  c.  286.     Imagines  of  Lucian,  c.  7. 

2  Plutarch,  Tirnol.  36. 


180  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

light  Attic  ochre,  and  the  black  made  from  burnt  vine 
twigs.  He  painted  three  of  the  walls  of  the  Temple 
of  Theseus,  and  also  the  walls  of  the  Temple  of  the  Dios 
curi. 

With  Apollodorus,  of  Athens,  a  new  development  was 
The  ^hooi  made  in  the  art  of  painting.  Through  his  labors, 
Sorts0110  about  408  B.  c.,  dramatic  effect  was  added  to  the 
style  of  .Polygnotus,  without  departing  from  his  pictures 
as  models.  "  The  acuteness  of  his  taste,"  says  Fuseli,  "  led 
him  to  discover  that,  as  all  men  were  connected  by  one 
general  form,  so  they  were  separated  each  by  some  pre 
dominant  power,  which  fixed  character  and  bound  them  to 
a  class.  Thence  he  drew  his  line  of  imitation  and  person 
ified  the  central  form  of  the  class  to  which  his  object  be 
longed,  and  to  which  the  rest  of  its  qualities  administered, 
without  being  absorbed ;  agility  was  not  suffered  to  de 
stroy  firmness,  solidity,  or  weight ;  nor  strength  and  weight 
agility ;  elegance  did  not  degenerate  to  effeminacy,  nor 
grandeur  swell  to  hugeness."  J  His  aim  was  to  deceive 
the  eye  of  the  spectator  by  the  semblance  of  reality.  He 
painted  men  and  things  as  they  really  appeared.  He  also 
made  a  great  advance  in  coloring.  He  invented  chiaro-os- 
curo.  Other  painters  had  given  attention  to  the  proper 
gradation  of  light  and  shade  ;  he  heightened  this  effect  by 
the  gradation  of  tints,  and  thus  obtained  what  the  moderns 
call  tone.  He  was  the  first  who  conferred  due  honor  on 
the  pencil  —  "  primusque  gloriarn  penicillo  jure  contulit."  2 

This  great  painter  prepared  the  way  for  Zeuxis,3  who 
Peculiarities  belonged  to  his  school,  but  who  surpassed  him  in 
a  painS. as  the  power  to  give  ideal  form  to  rich  effects.  He 
began  his  great  career  four  hundred  and  twenty-four  years 
before  Christ,  and  was  most  remarkable  for  his  female  fig 
ures.  His  "  Helen,"  painted  from  five  of  the  most  beau 
tiful  women  of  Croton,  was  one  of  the  most  renowned  pro 
ductions  of  antiquity,  to  see  which  the  painter  demanded 

l  Fuseli,  Lect.  I.  2  piiny)  H.  N.  xxxv.  11.  8  Born  455  B.  C. 


CHAP,  iv.]  Contemporaries  of  Zeuxis.  181 

money.  He  gave  away  his  pictures,  because,  with  an  artist's 
pride,  he  maintained  that  their  price  could  not  be  estimated. 
There  is  a  tradition  that  Zeuxis  laughed  himself  to  death 
over  an  old  woman  painted  by  him.  He  arrived  at  illusion 
of  the  senses,  regarded  as  a  high  attainment  in  art,  as  in 
the  instance  recorded  of  his  grapes.  He  belonged  to  the 
Asiatic  school,  whose  head-quarters  were  at  Ephesus,  the 
peculiarities  of  which  were  accuracy  of  imitation,  the  exhi 
bition  of  sensual  charms,  and  the  gratification  of  sensual 
tastes.  He  went  to  Athens  about  the  time  that  the  sculpt 
ure  of  Phidias  was  completed,  which  modified  his  style. 
His  marvelous  powers  were  displayed  in  the  contrast  of 
light  and  shade  which  he  learned  from  Apollodorus.  He 
gave  ideal  beauty  to  his  figures,  but  it  was  in  form  rather 
than  in  expression.  He  taught  the  true  method  of  group 
ing,  by  making  each  figure  the  perfect  representation  of  the 
class  to  which  it  belonged.  His  works  were  deficient  in 
those  qualities  which  elevate  the  feelings  and  the  character. 
He  was  the  Euripides  rather  than  the  Homer  of  his  art. 
He  exactly  imitated  natural  objects,  which  are  incapable  of 
ideal  representation.  His  works  were  not  so  numerous  as 
they  were  perfect  in  their  way,  in  some  of  which,  as  in  the 
Infant  Hercules  strangling  the  Serpent,  he  displayed  great 
dramatic  power.1  Lucian  highly  praises  his  Female  Cen 
taur  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  paintings  of  the  world, 
in  which  he  showed  great  ingenuity  in  his  contrasts.  His 
Jupiter  Enthroned  is  also  extolled  by  Pliny,  as  one  of  his 
finest  works.  He  acquired  a  great  fortune,  and  lived 
ostentatiously. 

Contemporaneous   with   him,   and    equal   in   fame,   was 
Parrhasius,  a  native  of  Ephesus,  whose  skill  lay  Parrhasiug 
in  accuracy  of  drawing,  and  power  of  expression.   ofEPhesus 
He  gave  to  painting  true  proportion,  and  attended  to  mi 
nute  details  of  the  countenance  and  the  hair.     In  his  gods 
and  heroes,  he  did  for  painting  what  Phidias  did  in  sculpt- 

1  Lucian  on  Zeuxis. 


182  Art  in  the  Roman  Umpire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

ure.  His  outlines  were  so  perfect  as  to  .indicate  those 
parts  of  the  figure  which  they  did  not  express.  He  estab 
lished  a  rule  of  proportion  which  was  followed  by  all  suc 
ceeding  artists.  While  many  of  his  pieces  were  of  a  lofty 
character,  some  were  demoralizing.  Zeuxis  yielded  the 
palm  to  him,  since  he  painted  a  curtain  which  deceived  his 
rival,  whereas  Zeuxis  painted  grapes  which  deceived  only 
birds.  He  was  exceedingly  arrogant  and  luxurious,  and 
boasted  of  having  reached  the  utmost  limits  of  his  art. 
He  combined  the  magic  tone  of  Apollodorus  with  the 
exquisite  design  of  Zeuxis,  and  the  classic  expression  of 
Polygnotus. 

Many  were  the  eminent  painters  that  adorned  the  fifth 
century  before  Christ,  not  only  in  Athens,  but  the  Ionian 
contempora-  cities  of  Asia.  Timaiithes  of  Sicyon  was  distin- 

riesof 

Zeuxis.  guished  for  invention,  and  Eupompus  of  the  same 
city  founded  a  school.  His  advice  to  Lysippus  is  memora 
ble  —  "  Let  Nature,  not  an  artist,  be  your  model."  Proto- 
genes  was  celebrated  for  his  high  finish.  His  Talissus  took 
him  seven  years  to  complete.  Pamphilus  was  celebrated 
for  composition,  Antiphilus  for  facility,  Theon  of  Samos 
for  prolific  fancy,  Apelles  for  grace,  Pausias  for  his  chia- 
ro-oscuro,  Nicomachus  for  his  bold  and  rapid  pencil,  Aris- 
tides  for  depth  of  expression. 

The  art  probably  culminated  in  Apelles,  the  Titian  of 
Artcuimi-  his  age,  who  united  the  rich  coloring  and  sensual 

nates  in  .  n      i         T        •  •    i        i  •          •  n  • 

Apeiies.  charms  ot  the  Ionian  with  the  scientific  severity 
of  the  Sicyonian  school.  He  was  contemporaneous  with 
Alexander,  and  was  alone  allowed  to  paint  the  picture  of 
the  great  conqueror.  He  was  a  native  of  Ephesus,  stud 
ied  under  Pamphilus  of  Amphipolis,  and  when  he  had 
gained  reputation  he  went  to  Sicyon  and  took  lessons  from 
Melanthius.  He  spent  the  best  part  of  his  life  at  the  court 
of  Philip  and  Alexander,  and  painted  many  portraits  of 
these  great  men  and  of  their  generals.  He  excelled  in 
portraits,  and  labored  so  assiduously  to  perfect  himself  in 


CHAP,  iv.]      Decline  of  Painting  after  Apelles.  183 

drawing  that  he  never  spent  a  day  without  practicing.1 
He  made  great  improvement  in  the  mechanical  part  of  his 
art,  and  also  was  the  first  who  covered  his  picture  with  a 
thin  varnish,  both  to  preserve  it  and  bring  out  the  colors. 
He  invented  ivory  black.  His  distinguishing  excellence 
was  grace,  "  that  artless  balance  of  motion  and  repose, 
springing  from  character,  founded  on  propriety,  which 
neither  falls  short  of  the  demands  nor  overleaps  the  mod 
esty  of  Nature." 2  His  great  contemporaries  may  have 
equaled  him  in  perspective,  accuracy,  and  finish  ;  but  he 
added  a  grace  of  conception  and  refinement  of  taste  which 
placed  him,  by  the  general  consent  of  ancient  authors,  at 
the  head  of  all  the  painters  of  the  world.  His  greatest  work 
was  his  Venus  Anadyomene,  or  Venus  rising  out  Thevenus 
of  the  sea,  in  which  female  grace  was  personified.  of  APelles- 
The  falling  drops  of  water  from  her  hair  form  a  transpa 
rent  silver  veil  over  her  form.  It  cost  one  hundred  tal 
ents,3  and  was  painted  for  the  Temple  of  JEsculapius  at 
Cos,  and  afterwards  placed  by  Augustus  in  the  temple 
which  he  dedicated  to  Julius  Cassar.  The  lower  part  of  it 
becoming  injured,  no  one  could  be  found  to  repair  it.  Nor 
was  there  an  artist  who  could  complete  an  unfinished  pict 
ure  which  he  left.  He  was  a  man  who  courted  criticism, 
and  who  was  unenvious  of  the  fame  of  rivals.  He  was  a 
great  admirer  and  friend  of  Protogenes  of  Rhodes,  who 
was  his  equal  in  finish,  but  who  never  knew,  as  Apelles 
did,  when  to  cease  correcting.4 

After  Apelles,  the  art  of  painting  declined,  although 
great  painters  occasionally  appeared,  especially  from  the 
school  of  Sicvon,  which  was  renowned  for  nearly  two  hun 
dred  years.  Tne  destruction  of  Corinth  by  Mummius, 
B.  c.  146,  gave  a  severe  blow  to  Grecian  art.  He  carried 

l  Pliny,  xxxv.  12.  2  Fuseli,  Lect.  I. 

8  £243xlOO=£24300x5=$121,500. 

4  Cicero,  Brut.  18;  De  Oral.  iii.  7.     Martial,  xxx.  9.     Ovid,  Art.  Anc.  iii.  403. 
Pliny,  xxxv.  37.    . 


184  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  IV. 

to  Rome  more  works,  or  destroyed  them,  than  all  his  pred 
ecessors  combined.  Sylla,  when  he  spoiled  Athens,  in 
flicted  a  still  greater  injury,  and,  from  that  time,  artists 
resorted  to  Rome  and  Alexandria  and  other  flourishing 
cities  for  patronage  and  remuneration.  The  masterpieces 
of  famous  artists  brought  enormous  prices,  and  Greece  and 
Asia  were  ransacked  for  old  pictures.  The  paintings  which 
introduc-  ^Emilius  Paulus  brought  from  Greece  required 
uJS  tatST*'  two  hundred  and  fifty  wagons  to  carry  them  in 
Rome>  the  triumphal  procession.  With  the  spoliation 

of  Greece,  the  migration  of  artists  commenced,  and  this 
spoliation  of  Greece  and  Asia  and  Sicily  continued  for  two 
centuries  ;  and  such  was  the  wealth  of  Rhodes  in  works 
of  art  that  three  thousand  statues  were  found  for  the  con 
querors.  Nor  could  there  have  been  less  at  Athens,  Olym- 
pia,  or  Delphi.  Scaurus  had  all  the  public  pictures  of 
Sicyon  transported  to  Rome.  Verres  plundered  every 
temple  and  public  building  in  Sicily. 

Thus  Rome  was  possessed  of  the  finest  paintings  of  the 
world,  without  the  slightest  claim  to  the  advancement  of 
the  art.  And  if  the  opinion  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  is 
correct,  art  could  soar  no  higher  in  the  realm  of  painting, 
nigh  value  as  we^  as  °^  statuary.  Yet  the  Romans  learned 
fhemdony  to  place  as  high  value  on  the  works  of  Grecian 
puntmg.  genius  as  the  English  do  on  the  paintings  of  the 
old  masters  of  Italy  and  Flanders.  And  if  they  did  not 
add  to  the  art,  they  gave  such  encouragement  that,  under 
the  emperors,  it  may  be  said  to  have  been  flourishing. 
Varro  had  a  gallery  of  seven  hundred  portraits  of  eminent 
men.1  The  portraits  as  well  as  the  statues  of  the  great 
were  placed  in  the  temples,  libraries,  and  public  buildings. 
The  baths  especially  were  filled  with  paintings. 

The  great  masterpieces  of  the  Greeks  were  either  his- 
subjects  torical  or  mythological.  Paintings  of  gods  and 

among  the        .  J  f  . 

heroes,   groups  or   men   and  women,    m   which 

i  Pliny,  H.  N.  xxx.  2. 


CHAP.  IV.]  Roman  Painting.  185 

character  and  passion  could  be  delineated,  were  the  most 
highly  prized.  It  was  in  the  expression  given  to  the  hu 
man  figure  —  in  beauty  of  form  and  countenance,  in 
which  all  the  emotions  of  the  soul  as  well  as  the  graces  of 
the  body  were  portrayed  —  that  the  Greek  artists  sought 
to  reach  the  ideal,  and  to  gain  immortality.  And  they 
painted  for  people  who  naturally  had  taste  and  sensibility. 

Among  the  Romans,  portrait,  decorative,  and  scene 
painting  engrossed  the  art,  much  to  the  regret  of  such 
critics  as  Pliny  and  Vitruvius.  Nothing  could  be  in  more 
execrable  taste  than  a  colossal  painting  of  Nero,  one  hun 
dred  and  twenty  feet  high.  From  the  time  of  Augustus, 
landscape  decorations  were  common,  and  were  carried  out 
with  every  species  of  license.  Among  the  Greeks  we  do 
not  read  of  landscape  painting.  This  has  been  ^n^ape 
reserved  for  our  age,  and  is  much  admired,  as  it  Palntms- 
was  at  Rome  in  its  latter  days.  Mosaic  gradually  super 
seded  painting  in  Rome.  It  was  first  used  for  floors,  but 
finally  walls  and  ceilings  were  ornamented  with  it,  like 
St.  Peter's  at  Rome.  Many  ancient  mosaics  have  been 
preserved  which  attest  beauty  of  design  of  the  highest 
character,  like  the  Battle  of  Issus,  lately  discovered  at 
Pompeii. 

In  fact,  neither  statuary  nor  painting  was  advanced  by 
the  Romans.  They  had  no  sensibility,  or  conception  of 
ideal  beauty.  The  divine  spark  of  genius  animated  the 
Greeks  alone.  Still  the  wonders  of  Grecian  art  were  pos 
sessed  by  the  Romans,  and  were  made  to  adorn  those 
grand  architectural  monuments  for  which  they  had  a  taste. 
Greek  productions  were  not  merely  matters  of  property, 
they  were  copied  and  reproduced  in  all  the  cities  of  the 
Mediterranean  ;  and  though  no  artist  of  original  genius 
arose  from  Augustus  to  Constantine,  galleries  of  art  existed 
everywhere  in  which  the  masterpieces  of  Polygnotus,  Pau- 
sias,  Aristides,  Timanthes,  Zeuxis,  Parrhasius,  Pamphilus, 
Euphranor,  Protogenes,  Apelles,  Timomachus,  and  of 


186  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

other  illustrious  men,  were  objects  of  as  much  praise  as 
the  galleries  of  Dresden  and  Florence. 

"  The  glorious  art  of  these  masters,  as  far  as  regards 
tone,  light,  and  local  color,"  says  Muller,  "  is  lost  to  us,  and 
we  know  nothing  of  it  except  from  obscure  notices  and 
later  imitations  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  pictures  on  vases 
Probable  £'ve  us  ^ne  niost  cxa  I  ted  idea  of  the  progress  and 
SefSent°sf  achievements  of  the  arts  of  design."  *  It  is  sur- 

in  painting.       prjsjng    t]iat?   wjtn   fQur  co]orSj   the   Greeks    should 

have  achieved  such  miracles  of  beauty  and  finish  as  are 
represented  by  the  greatest  cities  of  antiquity.  The  great 
wonders  of  the  schools  of  Ephesus,  Athens,  and  Sicyon 
have  perished,  and  we  cannot  judge  of  their  merits  as  we 
can  of  the  statues  which  have  fortunately  been  preserved. 
Whether  Polygnotus  was  equal  to  Michael  Angelo,  Zeuxis 
to  Raphael,  and  Apelles  to  Titian,  we  have  no  means  of 
settling.  But  it  is  scarcely  to  be  questioned  that  critics 
like  the  Greeks,  whose  opinions  respecting  architecture 
and  sculpture  coincide  with  our  own,  could  have  erred  in 
their  verdicts  respecting  those  great  paintings  which  ex 
torted  the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  were  held,  even  in 
the  decline  of  art,  in  such  high  value,  not  merely  in  the 
cities  where  they  were  painted,  but  in  those  to  which  they 
were  transferred.  What  has  descended  to  our  times,  like 
the  mural  decorations  of  Pompeii  and  the  designs  on  vases, 
go  to  prove  the  perfection  which  was  attained  in  painting, 
as  well  as  sculpture  and  architecture. 

And  thus,  in  all  those  arts  of  which  modern  civilization 
is  proudest,  and  in  which  the  genius  of  man  has  soared 
to  the  loftiest  heights,  the  ancients  were  not  merely  our 
equals  :  they  were  our  superiors.  It  is  greater  to  originate 
than  to  copy.  In  architecture,  in  sculpture,  and  in  paint- 
ing  the  Greeks  attained  absolute  perfection.  Any 


the  ancients,   architect  of  our  time,  who  should  build  an  edifice 
in  different  proportions  than  those  which  were  recognized 

1  Muller,  Ancient  Art,  143. 


CHAP,  iv.]       Greatness  of  the  Ancients  in  Art.  187 

in  the  great  cities  of  antiquity,  would  make  a  mistake. 
Who  can  improve  upon  the  Doric  columns  of  the  Parthe 
non,  or  the  Corinthian  capitals  of  the  Temple  of  Jupiter? 
Indeed,  it  is  in  proportion  as  we  accurately  copy  the  fault 
less  models  of  the  age  of  Pericles  that  excellence  with  us  is 
attained.  When  we  differ  from  them  we  furnish  grounds 
of  just  criticism.  So,  in  sculpture,  the  Greek  Slave  is  a 
reproduction  of  an  ancient  Venus,  and  the  Moses  of  Mi 
chael  Angelo  is  a  Jupiter  in  repose.  It  is  only  when  the 
artist  seeks  to  bring  out  the  purest  and  loftiest  sentiments 
of  the  soul,  and  such  as  only  Christianity  can  inspire,  that 
he  may  hope  to  surpass  the  sculpture  of  antiquity  in  one 
department  of  the  art  alone  —  in  expression,  rather  than 
beauty  of  form,  on  which  no  improvement  can  be  made. 
And  if  we  possessed  the  Venus  of  Apelles,  as  we  can  boast 
of  having  the  sculptured  Venus  of  Cleomenes,  we  should 
probably  discover  greater  richness  of  coloring,  as  well  as 
grace  of  figure,  than  in  that  famous  Titian  which  is  one 
of  the  proudest  ornaments  of  the  galleries  of  Florence, 
and  one  of  the  greatest  marvels  of  Italian  art. 

REFERENCES.  —  Winckelmann's  History  of  Ancient  Art  ;  Miiller's 
Remains  of  Ancient  Art ;  A.  J.  Guattani,  Antiq.  de  la  Grande  Grece ; 
Mazois,  Antiq.  de  Pomp. ;  Sir  W.  Gill,  Pompeiana ;  Donaldson's  An 
tiquities  of  Athens  ;  Yitruvius,  Stuart,  Chandler,  Clarke,  Dodwell, 
Cleghorn,  De  Quincey.  These  are  some  of  the  innumerable  authori 
ties  on  Architecture  among  the  ancients. 

In  Sculpture,  Pliny  and  Cicero  are  the  most  noted  critics.  There  is 
a  fine  article  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica  on  this  subject.  In 
Smith's  Dictionary  are  the  lives  and  works  of  the  most  noted  masters. 
Miiller's  Ancient  Art  alludes  to  the  leading  masterpieces.  Montfau- 
con's  Antiquite  expliquee  en  Figures  ;  Specimens  of  Ancient  Sculpture, 
by  the  Society  of  Diettanti,  London,  1809;  Ancient  Marbles  of  the 
British  Museum,  by  Taylor  Combe ;  Millin,  Introduction  £  1'Etude  des 
Monumens  Antiques  ;  Monumens  Inedits  d' Antiquite  figuree,  recuellis 
et  publics  par  Raoul-Rochette  ;  Gerhard's  Archaol.  Zeit. ;  David's  Es- 
sai  sur  le  Classement  Chronol.  des  Sculpteurs  Grecs  les  plus  celebres. 

In  Painting,  see  Caylus,  Metnoires  de  1'ac  des  Inscr.  Levesque,  sur 
les  Progres  successifs  de  la  Peinture  chez  les  Grecs ;  I.  I.  Grund,  Mah- 


188  Art  in  the  Roman  Empire.  [CHAP.  iv. 

lerei  der  Griechen ;  Meyer's  Kunstgischichte  ;  Miiller,  Hist,  of  An 
cient  Art  ;  Article  on  Painting,  Ency.  Brit.,  Article  "  Pictura," 
Smith's  Diet. ;  Fuseli's  Lectures ;  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds'  Lectures. 
Lanzi's  History  of  Painting  refers  to  the  revival  of  the  art.  Vitruvius 
speaks  at  some  length  on  ancient  wall  paintings.  The  finest  specimens 
of  ancient  painting  are  found  in  catacombs,  the  baths,  and  the  ruins 
of  Pompeii.  On  this  subject,  Winckelmann  is  the  great  authority. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ROMAN    CONSTITUTION. 

IT  is  not  from  a  survey  of  the  material  grandeur,  or  the 
arts,  or  the  military  prowess  of  Rome  that  we  get  the 
highest  idea  of  her  civilization.  These  indicate  strength 
and  even  genius ;  but  the  checks  and  balances  which  were 
gradually  introduced  into  the  government  of  the  city  and 
empire,  by  which  society  was  kept  together,  and  a  great 
prosperity  secured  for  centuries,  also  show  great  foresight 
and  practical  wisdom.  A  State  which  favored  individual 
development  while  it  promoted  law  and  order;  which  se 
cured  liberty,  while  it  made  the  government  stable  and 
respectable  ;  which  guaranteed  rights  to  the  poorer  citi 
zens,  while  it  placed  power  in  the  hands  of  those  who  were 
most  capable  of  wielding  it  for  the  general  good,  is  well 
worth  our  contemplation.  The  idea  of  aggrandizement 
was,  it  must  be  confessed,  the  most  powerful  which  entered 
into  the  Roman  mind  ;  but  the  principles  of  national  unity, 
the  welfare  of  citizens,  the  reign  of  law,  the  security  of  prop 
erty,  the  network  of  trades  and  professions,  also  received 
attention  there.  The  aspirations  for  liberty  and  national 
prosperity  never  left  the  Roman  mind.  The  Ro-  The  Roman 
mans  were  great  creators  of  civilization,  though  in  civilization. 
a  different  sense  from  the  Greeks.  What  the  principles  of  art 
were  to  the  Greeks,  those  of  government  were  to  the  Ro 
mans.  If  the  Greeks  made  statues,  the  Romans  made  laws. 
If  the  former  speculated  on  the  beautiful,  or  the  The  Romans 
good,  or  the  true,  the  latter  realized  the  boast  of  go"«m 
Diogenes  —  the  power  to  govern  men.  The  passion  for 
government  was  the  most  powerful  which  a  Roman  citizen 


190  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  V. 

felt,  next  to  the  passion  for  war.  For  five  hundred  years 
after  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  there  was  the  most  perfect 
system  of  checks  and  balances  in  the  government  of  the 
state  known  in  the  ancient  world,  and  which  is  scarcely 
rivaled  in  the  modern.  Power  was  so  wisely  distributed 
that  not  even  a  successful  general  was  able  to  gain  a  dan 
gerous  preeminence.  Every  citizen  was  a  politician,  and 
every  Senator  a  statesman.  For  five  hundred  years  there 
was  neither  anarchy  nor  military  despotism.  If  every 
citizen  knew  how  to  fight,  every  citizen  also  knew  how  to 
govern,  to  submit.  No  consul  dared  to  exceed  his  trust ;  no 
general,  till  Caesar,  ventured  to  cross  the  Rubicon.  The 
Roman  Senate  never  lost  its  dignity  —  a  supreme  body 
which  controlled  all  public  interests.  The  Romans  were 
sufficiently  wise  to  bend  to  circumstances.  Though  proud, 
the  patricians  made  concessions  to  plebeians  whenever  it 
was  necessary.  The  right  of  citizenship  was  gradually 
extended  throughout  the  Empire.  Paul  lived  in  a  remote 
city  of  Asia  Minor,  but,  by  virtue  of  his  citizenship,  could 
appeal  to  a  higher  court  than  that  of  the  governor.  The 
Romans  succeeded,  by  their  wisdom,  in  extending  their  in 
stitutions  over  the  countries  they  had  conquered  ;  and  every 
part  of  the  Empire  was  well  governed  even  when  military 
despotism  had  overturned  the  ancient  constitution.  There 
were,  of  course,  cases  of  extortion  and  injustice,  and  most 
governors  made  large  fortunes  ;  yet  the  provinces  were  bet 
ter  administered,  and  the  rule  was  more  in  accordance  with 
justice  than  under  the  native  princes.  Throughout  the 
vast  limits  of  the  Empire,  life  and  property  were  safe,  and 
the  roads  were  free  of  robbers ;  nor  were  there  riots  in  the 
cities,  except  on  very  rare  occasions,  in  which  they  were 
put  down  with  merciless  severity.  Yet  a  few  hundred 
men  were  enough  to  preserve  order  in  the  largest  cities, 
and  a  few  thousand  in  the  most  extensive  provinces, 
sol?  ht°San8  Even  under  the  most  tyrannical  emperors,  jus- 
through  laws.  ^ce  an^  order  were  enforced.  The  government 


CHAP,  v.]  Rome.  191 

was  never  better  administered  than  by  Tiberius,  and 
further,  was  never  better  administered  than  when  he  was 
abandoned  to  pleasure  in  his  guarded  villa  at  Capri.  There 
was  the  passion  to  govern  the  world,  but  in  accordance 
with  laws.  The  rule  of  the  Romans  was  not  that  of  brute 
force,  even  when  the  army  was  at  the  control  of  the  Em 
perors.  The  citizens,  to  the  last,  enjoyed  great  social  and 
political  rights.  They  had  great  immunities,  in  reference 
to  marriage,  and  the  making  of  wills,  and  the  possession  of 
property.  Their  persons  were  secured  from  the  disgrace 
of  corporal  punishment ;  they  could  appeal  from  the  decision 
of  magistrates  ;  they  were  eligible  to  public  offices ;  they 
were  exempted  from  many  oppressive  taxes  which  still 
grind  down  the  people  in  the  most  civilized  states  of 
Europe.  The  government  of  Octavius  was  the  mildest 
despotism  ever  known  to  the  ancient  world.  That  Ulysses 
of  state  craft  exercised  the  most  extensive  powers  under 
the  ancient  forms,  and  all  the  early  emperors  disguised 
rather  than  paraded  their  powers.  Contented  with  real 
power,  the  Roman  was  careless  of  its  display.  He  had  the 
tact  to  rule  without  seeming  to  rule  ;  but  rule  he  must, 
though  not  until  he  had  first  learned  to  obey — obedience 
to  laws  and  domination  were  inseparably  connected.  This 
made  the  Roman  yoke  endurable,  because  it  was  not 
offensive  or  unjust.  The  Romans  were  masters  of  the 
world  by  conquest,  yet  ruled  the  world  they  Roman8ense 
had  subdued  by  arms  in  accordance  with  laws  ofJustlce- 
based  on  the  principles  of  equity.  This  sense  of  justice, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  unbounded  domination,  undoubtedly 
gave  permanence  to  their  government.  The  centurion 
was  ever  present  to  enforce  a  decree,  but  the  decree  was 
in  accordance  with  justice.  This  was  the  idea,  the  recog 
nized  principle  of  government,  although  often  abused. 
Paul  appealed  to  Caesar.  He  might  have  been  released  by 
the  governor,  had  he  not  appealed.  Here  was  justice  to 
Paul  in  allowing  the  appeal ;  and  still  greater  justice  in 
keeping  him  in  bonds  until  acquitted  by  Cassar  himself. 


192  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  V. 

It  must,  however,  be  confessed  that,  after  the  Caesars 
Degeueracy  were  fairly  established  on  their  throne,  a  great 
perors.em  indifference  to  public  affairs  ensued.  Every 
office  was  then,  directly  or  indirectly,  in  the  hands  of  the 
emperor.  Cicero  expressed  the  popular  sentiment  of  his 
day  when  he  said,  "  that  was  the  most  perfect  government 
which  was  a  combination  of  popular  and  aristocratic 
authority  ; "  — but  in  the  eighth  century  of  the  city,  the 
system  of  checks  and  balances  would  have  fallen  to  pieces  in 
the  hands  of  a  degenerate  people.  A  constitutional  monarchy 
even  was  no  longer  possible.  The  vices  of  the  oligarchy, 
and  the  fierce  reactions  of  the  democracy,  had  destroyed  all 
the  dreams  of  the  earlier  patriots.  The  mass  of  the 
people  had  long  been  passive  under  the  sway  of  factions 
and  political  intriguers,  and  they  resigned  themselves  to  the 
despotism  of  the  emperor  without  a  struggle.  But  even  in 
this  degradation  the  power  of  government  remained  among 
the  leading  classes.  The  governors  of  provinces,  taken  gene- 
skiiiof  the  rally  from  the  Senate  and  the  nobles,  were  skillful 

Romans  for       ...  ,       .     .  .  o          ,  ,.  „,  .  ,-p,, 

government,  in  their  administration  ot  public  affairs,  lliey 
were  enlightened  in  all  political  duties.  The  traditional 
ideas  of  government  survived  for  several  generations,  even 
as  the  mechanism  of  the  army  made  it  powerful  after  all 
real  spirit  had  fled.  The  Roman  still  regarded  himself 
as  the  favorite  of  the  gods,  destined  to  achieve  a  vast 
mission,  even  the  reduction  of  the  world  to  political  unity. 
Augustus  made  every  effort,  while  he  reigned,  in  the  ruin 
of  political  institutions,  to  revive  the  forms  and  traditions 
of  other  days.  The  patricians  were  favored  and  honored,  and 
the  Senate  still  was  made  to  appear  august,  with  a  pros 
trate  world  at  its  feet,  to  which  it  was  bound  to  dictate 
laws  and  institutions.  Political  unity  was  the  grand  idea 
of  the  Romans,  and  this  idea  has  survived  to  our  own 
times.  It  was  one  of  the  great  elements  of  Roman  civili- 
On  what  the  zation.  Universal  empire  was  based,  in  the 

prosperity  ..  «     i        T»  «  i«  IT  v 

was  based,      better  days  ot  the  Republic,  on  public  morality, 


CHAP.  V        Excellence  of  ike  Roman  Government.       193 

in  the  iron  discipline  of  families,  in  a  marvelously  well- 
trained  soldiery,  in  a  military  system  which  made  the  civil 
society  an  army  almost  ready  for  the  field,  in  a  recognition 
of  public  rights  and  duties,  in  a  wise  system  of  colonization, 
in  conciliatory  conduct  to  the  conquered  races,  and  in  a 
central  power  as  the  dispenser  of  all  honor  and  emoluments. 
The  civil  wars  broke  up,  in  a  measure,  this  wise  and  con 
siderate  policy ;  still  citizenship  extended  to  all  parts  of  the 
empire,  even  when  it  was  manifest  it  must  soon  fall  into 
the  hands  of  barbarians.  And  as  for  the  administration  of 
justice,  it  was  probably  better  conducted  under  the  emper 
ors  than  under  the  supreme  rule  of  the  Senate.  Government 

•  I  rr*         the  great  art 

Even  bad  emperors  knew  how  to  govern,  lo  and  science 
the  Roman  mind  every  thing  was  subordinate  to  Romans, 
the  art  of  government.  And  every  characteristic  fitted 
the  Romans  to  govern  —  energy  of  will,  practical  good 
sense,  the  conception  of  justice,  an  unyielding  pride, 
fortitude,  courage,  and  lust  of  power.  And  the  spirit 
of  domination  was  carried  out  into  every  thing.  It  was 
made  a  science,  an  art.  Whatever  would  contribute  to  the 
ascendency  of  the  state  was  remorselessly  adopted ;  what 
ever  would  interfere  with  it  was  abandoned  or  swept  away. 
Fierce  and  tolerant  by  turns,  and  as  circumstances 
prompted  —  such  was  the  Roman.  With  submission  life 
was  easy,  and  the  government  was  mild.  And  the 
supreme  government  rarely  entrusted  power  except  to 
faithful,  capable,  and  patriotic  rulers.  The  wisest  and  best 
were  selected  for  important  offices.  The  governors  of 
provinces  were  men  of  great  experience ;  they  were 
generals  and  senators  who  had  passed  their  term  of  active 
service.  They  easily  made  great  mistakes.  They  carried 
out  the  policy  of  the  State.  They  were  acquainted  with 
laws,  and  the  customs  of  the  people  whom  they  ruled. 
They  were  versed  in  the  literature  of  their  day.  They 
were  men  of  dignity  and  fortune.  They  were  moderate, 
conciliatory,  and  firm.  They  were  models  for  rulers  for 

13 


194  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP,  v. 

all  subsequent  ages.  There  were,  of  course,  exceptions, 
but  the  small  number  of  riots  and  rebellions  shows  the  con 
tentment  of  the  people,  for  they  were  not  ground  down  by 
oppressive  laws  and  exactions,  until  their  spirit  was  broken. 
How  munificent  were  the  emperors  to  such  cities  as 
Athens  and  Alexandria  !  Athens  was  the  seat  of  learning 
and  culture,  to  the  very  end  of  the  empire.  Arts  and 
literature  and  science  were  fostered  in  all  the  cities.  They 
were  adopted  as  parts  of  the  empire,  not  treated  like  con 
quered  territories.  After  the  destruction  of  Carthage, 
the  Romans  had  no  jealousy  of  cities  that  once  were 
equals.  Their  arts  were  made  to  subserve  Roman  great 
ness,  indeed,  but  they  were  left  free  to  develop  their  re- 
Prosperity  of  sources.  The  development  of  resources  was  a 
men?"™  vital  principle  of  the  Roman  government.  Spain, 
Syria,  and  Egypt,  were  never  more  prosperous  than  under 
the  imperial  rule.  All  the  provinces  were  more  thriving 
under  the  emperors  than  they  had  been  under  their  an 
cient  kings,  until  the  era  of  barbaric  invasions.  If  war 
had  been  the  mission  of  the  republic,  peace  was  the  pride 
of  the  empire.  There  were  no  wars  of  importance  for 
three  hundred  years,  except  those  of  necessity.  The  end 
of  the  emperors  was  to  govern,  to  preserve  peace,  and 
secure  obedience  to  the  laws. 

But  we  must  bear  in  mind  that,  whatever  were  the  pop- 
Thearistoc-  u^ar  rights  enjoyed  in  the  republican  era,  and 
ruiers^Sthe1  however  vast  were  the  powers  wielded  by  the 
emperors  after  liberty  had  fled,  yet  the  consti 
tution  of  Roman  society  was  essentially  aristocratic.  All 
the  great  conquests  were  made  under  the  rule  of  patricians, 
and  all  the  leading  men  under  the  emperors  were  nobles. 
The  government  was  virtually,  from  first  to  last,  in  the 
hands  of  the  aristocracy.  Still  there  was  an  important 
popular  element,  especially  in  the  latter  days  of  the  re 
public,  to  which  revolutionary  leaders  appealed,  like  the 
Gracchi,  Marius,  Catiline,  and  Ca3sar.  One  of  the  most 


CHAP.  V.]         Incapacity  for  Self-  Government.  195 

humiliating  lessons  which  we  learn  of  antiquity,  we   are 
forced  to  own,  was  the  signal  incapacity  of  the  peo-  Defects  of 

!  ,  ,  ,  i  i       i      i        •         i     Democratic 

pie  to  govern  themselves,  when  they  had  obtained  ascendency. 
a  greater  share  of  power  than  the  old  constitution  had 
allowed.  The  republic  did  not  long  survive  when  success 
ful  generals  and  eloquent  demagogues  were  sustained  by 
the  people.  Had  Rome  been  a  democracy,  as  some  sup 
pose,  the  empire  never  could  have  been  established.  We 
comfort  ourselves,  however,  by  the  reflection,  that  when 
the  people  surrendered  themselves  to  factions  and  dema 
gogues  and  tyrants,  they  were  both  ignorant  and  depraved. 
Self-government  has  never  yet  succeeded,  because  there 
have  never  been  virtue  and  intelligence  among  the  masses. 
So  long  as  we  can  boast  of  virtue  and  intelligence  among 
the  people,  we  need  not  despair  with  the  government  in 
their  hands.  An  enlightened  self-interest  will  suggest  the 
wisest  policy.  We  only  despair  of  the  government  of  the 
people  when  they  are  ignorant,  brutal,  and  The  people 

•     1        J  A  .L!  •      J        •  ^1  Unfit   t0  g°V' 

wicked.  As  there  was  no  period  in  the  an-  em  when 
cient  world  when  they  were  not  unenlightened,  enS  g 
we  are  reconciled  to  the  fact  that  a  wise  and  vigorous 
administration  of  public  affairs  was  always  conducted  by 
kings  or  nobles  who  had  intelligence  and  patriotism,  if 
they  were  proud  and  imperious.  Whatever  faith  we  may 
justly  cherish  in  reference  to  popular  sovereignty,  grounded 
on  the  principles  of  natural  justice,  and  the  hopes  which 
are  held  out  as  the  fruit  of  Christian  ideas,  still,  as  a  fact, 
there  is  but  little  in  the  history  of  the  Roman  common 
wealth  which  reflects  much  glory  on  the  people,  except 
when  controlled  and  marshalled  by  the  aristocracy.  Just 
so  far  as  the  popular  element  prevailed,  the  state  PopUiareie- 
was  hurried  on  to  ruin.  The  aristocratical  ele-  %%££ the 
ment  had  the  ascendency  when  Rome  was  most  State' 
prosperous  and  most  respected.  Yet,  while  the  Roman  con 
stitution  was  essentially  aristocratic  for  five  hundred  years, 
it  had  a  strong  popular  element  mingled  with  it.  The 


106  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  V. 

patricians  had  the  chief  power,  but  they  were  not  lords  and 
masters  in  so  absolute  a  sense  as  to  trample  on  the  people 
with  impunity,  nor  were  they  able  to  deprive  them  of  their 
rights,  or  of  all  share  in  the  government.  They  were  not 
feudal  nobles,  nor  a  Venetian  oligarchy.  And  yet  it  were 
a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  distinction  between  the 
classes  implied  that  the  aristocratic  power  was  lodged  with 
tne  patricians  alone.  The  patricians  were  not 


gi£athkida  necessarily  aristocrats,  nor  the  plebeians  a  rabble. 
thTgSem-  The  political  distinctions  passed  away  without 
destroying  social  inequalities.  There  were  great 
families  among  the  plebeians  which  really  belonged  to  the 
aristocratic  class,  at  least  in  the  time  of  Cicero.  Aristoc 
racy  may  have  been  based  on  birth,  as  in  England,  but 
it  was  sustained  by  wealth,  as  in  that  country.  A  very 
rich  man  gained,  ultimately,  admission  to  the  noble  class, 
as  Rothschild  has  in  London.  Without  wealth  to  uphold 
distinctions,  any  aristocracy  soon  becomes  contemptible. 
That  organization  of  society  is  most  aristocratic  which  con 
fers  great  political  and  social  privileges  on  a  few  men,  and 
retains  these  ^privileges  from  generation  to  generation,  as  in 
France  during  the  reign  of  Louis  XV.  The  state  of 
society  at  Rome  under  the  republic,  favored  the  monopoly 
of  offices  among  powerful  families.  It  was  considered 
very  remarkable  for  even  Cicero  to  rise  to  the  highest 
honors  of  the  state  with  his  magnificent  genius,  character, 
attainments,  and  services  ;  but  he  shared  the  consulship 
with  a  man  of  very  ordinary  capacity.  The  great  offices 
were  all  in  the  hands  of  the  aristocracy,  from  the  expul 
sion  of  the  kings  to  the  times  of  Julius  Caesar.  Even  the 
tribunes  of  the  people  ultimately  were  selected  from  power 
ful  families. 

The    Roman  people  —  Romanus  populus  —  under  the 
kings,  the  original  citizens,  were  the  warriors  who  built 

Rome,  and  conquered  the  surrounding  cities  and 
..  .     . 

districts.     They  were  called  patres,  which  is  sy- 


ciana. 


CHAP.  V.]  Constitution  of  the  Aristocracy.  197 

nonymous  with  Patricians.1  They  were  united  among 
themselves  by  kindred  and  by  political  and  religious 
ties.  They  supported  themselves  by  agriculture,  although 
engaged  continually  in  war.  They  consisted  originally 
of  three  tribes,  which  gradually  were  united  into  the 
sovereign  people.  The  first  tribe  was  a  Latin  colony, 
and  settled  on  the  Palatine  Hill ;  the  second  were  Sabine 
settlers  on  the  Quirinal ;  the  third  were  Etruscans, 
who  occupied  the  Caelian.  They  were  distinct,  at  first, 
and  were  not  united  fully  till  the  time  of  Tarquinius 
Priscus,  himself  an  Etruscan.2  As  there  were  no 
other  Roman  citizens  but  these  patricians,  they  had  no 
exclusive  rights  under  the  kings,  and  hence  there  was  then 
no  aristocracy  of  birth.  Each  of  these  three  tribes  of 
citizens  consisted  of  ten  curise,  and  each  curia  of  ten 
decuries,  or  gentes.  The  three  tribes,  therefore,  contained 
three  hundred  gentes.  A  gens  was  a  family,  and  the 
gentes  were  aggregates  of  kindred  families.3  The  name  of 
a  gens  was  generally  characterized  by  the  termi-  The  Roman 
nation  eia  or  i«,  as  Julia,  Cornelia,  and  it  is  to  be  ( 
presumed  that  each  gens  had  a  common  ancestor.  But 
with  the  growth  of  the  city  it  came  to  pass  that  a  gens 
often  included  a  great  number  of  families  ;  we  read  of  three 
hundred  Fabii  forming  the  gens  Fabia  in  the  year  275. 
These  families  composed,  ultimately,  the  aristocracy.  They 
were  the  people  \vho  filled  all  offices,  and  alone  had  the 
right  of  voting  in  the  assemblies.  As  the  gentes  were 
subdivisions  of  the  three  ancient  tribes,  the  populus  alone 
had  gentes,  so  that  to  be  a  patrician  and  to  have  a  gens 
were  synonymous.  With  the  growth  of  Rome  new 
gentes  or  families  were  added  which  did  not  claim  descent 
from  the  ancient  tribes.  The  powerful  gens  of  the 
Claudia  came  to  Rome  with  Atta  Claudius,  their  head, 
after  the  expulsion  of  the  kings.  Tullus  Hostilius  incor 
porated  the  Julii,  Servilii  and  other  gentes  with  the  patri- 

1  Cicero,  De  Repub.,  ii.  12.     Liv.,  i.  8. 

2  Dionys.,  ii.  62.  »  Nieb.,  Lect.  V. 


198  The  Roman   Constitution.  [CHAP.  V 

cians.  This  ruling  class,  the  descendants  of  the  con 
querors,  became  a  powerful  aristocracy,  and  ultimately 
learned  to  value  pride  of  blood.  There  are  very  few  names 
in  Roman  history,  until  the  time  of  Marius,  which  did 
not  belong  to  this  noble  class.  What  proud  families  were 
the  Servilii,  the  Claudii,  the  Julii,  the  Cornelii,  the  Fabii, 
the  Valerii,  the  Sempronii,  the  Octavii,  the  Sergii,  and 
others.1 

The  JEquites  were  originally  elected  from  the  patricians, 
and  were  cavalry  soldiers,  and  did  not  form  a  distinct  class 
till  the  time  of  the  Gracchi.  They  were  composed  of  rich 
citizens,  whose  wealth  enabled  them  to  become  judices. 
They  had  the  privilege  of  wearing  a  gold  ring,  and  had  seats 
reserved  for  them,  like  the  Senate,  at  the  theatre  and  circus. 
They  increased  in  number  with  the  increase  of  wealth,  and 
formed  an  honorable  corps  from  which  the  highest  officers 
of  the  army  and  the  civil  magistrates  were  chosen.  Admis 
sion  to  this  body  was  an  introduction  to  public  life,  and  was 
a  test  of  social  position.  It  was  composed  of  rich  plebeians 
as  well  as  patricians,  and  was  based  wholly  on  wealth. 
Pliny  says,  "  It  became  the  third  order  in  the  state,  and 
to  the  title  of  Senatus  Populusque  Momanus,  there  began 
to  be  added,  et  Equestris  ordo." 

Beside  this  Homanus  populus,  which  constituted  the 
ruling  class  under  kings,  was  another  body,  made  up  of 
conquered  people.  In  early  times  their  number  was  small, 
nor  did  they  appear  as  a  distinct  class  until  the  reign  of 
Tullus  Hostilius.  After  the  subjection  of  Alba,  the 
head  of  the  Latin  Confederacy,  great  numbers  were 
transferred  to  Rome,  and  received  settlements  on  the 
Caelian  Hill,  and  were  kept  under  submission  to  the  pa 
tricians.  As  the  Roman  conquests  extended,  their  numbers 
increased,  until  they  formed  the  larger  part  of  the  popula- 
The  Roman  tion'  They  were  called  plebs,  or  commonalty,  and 
pleb8'  had  no  political  privileges  whatever.  They  had 

not  even  the  right  of  suffrage  ;  but  they  were  enrolled  in 

1  Liv.,  i.  33.     Dionys.,  iii.  31. 


CHAP  V.]  The  Plebeians.  199 

the  army,1  and  made  to  bear  the  expenses  of  the  state. 
At  first  they  were  not  allowed  to  intermarry  with  the 
patricians.  Their  oppression  provoked  resistance.  The 
struggle  which  ensued  is  one  of  the  most  memorable  in 
Roman  history.  The  haughty  oligarchy  were  obliged  grad 
ually  to  concede  rights.  These  rights  the  plebs  retained. 
First  the}'  gained  a  law  which  prevented  patricians  from 
taking  usurious  interest.  They  secured  the  appointment  of 
tribunes  for  their  protection.  Soon  after  they  Thetri. 
had  the  right  of  summoning  before  their  own  b 
Comitia  tribute  any  one  who  violated  their  rights.  In  449 
they  had  influence  sufficient  to  establish  the  Connubium, 
by  which  they  could  intermarry  with  patricians.  In  421 
the  plebeians  were  admitted  to  the  quaestorship.  Then, 
after  a  fierce  contest,  they  were  made  decemvirs.  Their 
next  right  was  the  dignity  of  the  consulship,  and  GraduaUn- 
this  led  to  the  dictatorship.  In  351  they  se-  their  power, 
cured  the  censorship,  and  in  336  the  prastorship.  Politi 
cal  distinctions  now  vanished.  The  possession  of  a  share 
of  the  great  offices  created  powerful  families,  and  these 
were  incorporated  with  the  aristocracy.  The  great  privi 
lege  of  securing  tribunes  was  the  first  step  to  political 
power,  and  the  most  important  in  the  constitutional  history 
of  the  state.  And  it  was  the  tribunes  who  Tf,eir  U8urp_ 
gradually  usurped  the  greatest  powers.  They  a 
assumed  the  right,  in  456,  of  convoking  even  the  Senate. 
They  also  had  the  right  to  be  present  in  the  deliberations 
of  the  Senate  ;  as  their  persons  were  inviolable,  they  inter 
ceded  against  any  action  which  a  magistrate  might  under 
take  during  his  term  of  office,  and  even  a  command  issued 
by  a  praBtor.  They  could  compel  the  Senate  to  submit 
a  question  to  a  fresh  consultation,  and  ultimately  compelled 
the  consuls  to  appoint  a  dictator.  Their  power  grew  to 
such  a  height  that  they  acquired  the  right  of  proposing  to 
the  Comitia  tributa,  or  the  Senate,  measures  on  nearly  all 

i  Liv.,  i.  33.    Dionys.,  iii.  31. 


200  TJie  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  V. 

the  important  affairs  of  the  state,  and  finally  were  elected 
from  among  the  Senators  themselves. 

Through  the  institution  of  tribunes,  and  other  circum- 
Advance-  stances,  especially  the  increase  of  wealth,  the 

ment  of  the  .     .       V,  .  .    . 

plebeians.  plebeians,  originally  so  unimportant  and  insignia* 
cant  that  they  could  not  obtain  admission  into  the  Senate, 
nor  the  high  offices  of  state,  nor  the  occupancy  of  the 
public  lands,  ultimately  obtained  all  the  rights  of  the 
patricians,  so  that  gradually  the  political  distinctions  be 
tween  patricians  and  plebeians  vanished  altogether,  286 
B.  c.,  and  the  term  populus  was  applied  to  them  as  well  as 
to  the  patricians.1 

These  rights  were  only  secured  by  bitter  and  fierce  con- 
Graduai  in-  tests.  The  plebeians,  during  their  Ions:  struo-o-Je, 

crease  of 

their  power,  did  not  seek  power  to  gratify  their  ambition,  but 
to  protect  themselves  from  oppression.  Nor  was  the  power 
which  they  obtained  abused  until  near  the  close  of  the 
Republic. 

But  while  they  ultimately  were  blended,  politically,  with 
the  patricians,  still  the  latter  monopolized  most  of  the 
great  offices  of  the  state  until  the  time  of  Cicero,  and 
socially,  always  were  preeminent.  Yet  there  were  many 
noble  plebeian  families  who  were  blended  with  the  aris 
tocratic  class.  Aristocracy  survived,  after  the  political 
distinctions  between  the  two  classes  were  abrogated. 

o 

Rome  was  never  a  democracy.  Great  families,  whether 
patrician  or  plebeian,  controlled  the  State,  either  by  their 
wealth  or  social  connections.  The  Roman  nobility  was 
really  composed  of  all  the  families  rendered  illustrious  by 
the  offices  they  had  filled.  And  as  the  great  officers  were 
taken  generally  from  the  Senate,  that  body  was  particu 
larly  august. 

Until  the  usurpation  of  Caesar,  the  Senate  was  the  great 
The  senat*     controlling  power  of  the  republic.      It  not  only 
had  peculiar  privileges  and  powers,  but  a  monop- 
1  Liv.,  iv.  44;  v.  11, 12.    Cicero  de  Repub.,  ii.  37. 


CHAP,  v.]  The  Senate.  201 

oly  of  offices.  It  always  remained  powerful,  in  spite  of  the 
victories  of  the  plebeians.  The  laws  proclaimed  equality, 
but  for  fifty-nine  years  after  the  plebeians  had  the  right 
of  appointment  as  military  tribunes,  only  eighteen  were 
plebeians,1  while  two  hundred  and  forty-six  were  patricians  ; 
and  while  the  right  of  admission  to  the  Senate  was  ac 
knowledged  on  principle,  yet  no  one  could  enter  it  without 
having  obtained  a  decree  of  the  censor,  or  exercised  a 
curule  magistracy,  — favors  almost  always  reserved  for  the 
aristocracy.  The  Senate  was  a  judicial  and  legislative 
body,  and  numbered  for  several  centuries  but  three  hun 
dred  men,  selected  from  the  patricians.  At  first  they  were 
appointed  by  the  kings,  afterwards  by  the  consuls,  and 
subsequently  by  the  censors.  But  as  all  those  who  had 
been  appointed  by  the  populus  to  the  great  offices  had  ad 
mission  into  this  body,  the  people,  that  is,  the  patricians, 
virtually  nominated  the  candidates  for  the  Senate.  But  all 
magistrates  were  not  necessarily  members  of  the  Senate, 
only  those  whom  the  censors  selected  from  among  them, 
and  the  curule  magistrates  during  their  office.  It  was  from 
these  curule  magistrates  that  vacancies  were  filled  up. 
The  office  of  senator  was  for  life.  When  the  plebeians 
obtained  the  great  offices,  the  Senate  of  course  Character 
represented  the  whole  people,  as  it  formerly  had  of  senators. 
represented  the  populus.  But  it  was  never  a  democratic 
assembly,  for  all  its  members  belonged  to  the  nobles.  It 
required,  under  Augustus,  1,200,000  sesterces  to  support 
the  senatorial  dignity.  Only  a  rich  man  could  be,  there 
fore,  a  senator.  Nor  could  he  carry  on  any  mercantile 
business.  The  Senate  was  ever  composed  of  men  who 
had  rendered  great  public  services,  or  who  were  distin 
guished  for  wealth  and  talents.  It  was  probably  the  most 
dignified  and  the  proudest  body  of  men  ever  assembled. 
The  powers  of  the  Senate  were  enormous.  It  had  the  gen 
eral  superintendence  of  matters  of  religion  and  foreign  rela- 

1  Hist.  Julius  Ccesar,  by  Napoleon ;  chap.  ii.  5. 


202  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

tions ;  it  commanded  the  levies  of  troops  ;  it  regulated 
duties  and  taxes ;  it  gave  audience  to  ambassadors  ;  it  pro 
posed,  for  a  long  time,  the  candidates  for  office  to  the 
Comitia ;  it  determined  upon  the  way  that  war  should  be 
conducted  ;  it  decreed  to  what  provinces  the  consuls  and 
praetors  should  be  sent ;  it  appointed  governors  of  provinces  ; 
it  sent  out  embassies  to  foreign  states ;  it  carried  on  the 
negotiations  with  foreign  ambassadors ;  it  declared  martial 
law  in  the  appointment  of  dictators,  and  it  decreed  tri- 
Theprerog-  umphs  to  fortunate  generals.  In  short  it  was  the 

rative  of  .         , 

senators.  supreme  power  m  the  state,  and  was  the  medium 
through  which  all  the  affairs  of  government  passed.  It 
was  neither  an  hereditary,  nor  a  popular  body,  yet  rep 
resented  the  state  —  at  first  the  patrician  order,  and 
finally  the  whole  people,  retaining  to  the  end  its  aristo 
cratic  character.  The  senators  wore  on  their  tunics  a 
broad  purple  stripe,  —  a  badge  of  distinction,  like  a  modern 
decoration,  —  and  they  had  the  exclusive  rights  of  the  or 
chestra  at  theatres  and  amphitheatres.1  Under  the  emper 
ors,  the  Senate  was  degraded,  and  was  made  entirely  sub 
servient  to  their  will,  and  a  mouth-piece  ;  still  it  survived  all 
the  changes  of  the  constitution,  and  was  always  a  dignified 
and  privileged  body.  It  combined,  in  its  glory,  more  func 
tions  than  the  English  Parliament ;  it  was  convoked  by 
the  curule  magistrates,  and  finally  by  the  tribunes.  The 
most  ancient  place  of  assembly  was  the  Curia  Hostilia, 
though  subsequently  many  temples  were  used.  The  ma 
jority  of  votes  decided  a  question,  and  the  order  in  which 
senators  spoke  and  voted  was  determined  by  their  rank, 
in  the  following  order:  president  of  the  Senate,  consuls, 
censors,  praetors,  aediles,  tribunes,  quaestors.  Their  deci 
sions,  called  Senatus  Consulta,  were  laws  —  leges  —  and 
were  entrusted  to  the  care  of  aediles  and  tribunes.2 

Such  was  the  Roman  Senate  —  an  assembly  of  nobles, 

1  See  article  in  Smith's  Diet,  of  Ant.,  by  Dr.  Schmitz. 

2  Nieb.  Roman  Hist.,  viii.  p.  264. 


CHAP,  v.]        Blending  of  Patricians  and  People.  203 

whether  patrician  or  plebeian.  The  descendants  of  all  who 
had  filled  curule  magistracies  were  nobiles,  and  The  Senate 
had  the  privilege  of  placing  in  the  atrium  of  the 
house  the  images  and  titles  of  their  ancestors  —  E.1 
an  heraldic  distinction  in  substance.  And  as  the  patricians 
carried  back  their  pedigree  to  the  remotest  historical  period, 
there  was  great  pride  of  blood.  Few  plebeians  could 
boast  of  a  remote  and  illustrious  ancestry,  and  every 
plebeian  who  obtained  a  curule  office,  was  the  founder  of 
his  family's  nobility,  like  Cicero —  a  novus  homo.  This  no 
bility  contrived  to  keep  possession  of  all  the  great  offices, 
and  it  was  difficult  for  a  new  man  to  get  access  to  their 
ranks.  The  distinction  of  Patrician  and  Plebeian  was 
secondary,  after  the  Gracchi,  to  that  of  Nobilitas,  yet  it 
was  rare  to  find  a  patrician  gens  the  families  of  which  had 
not  enjoyed  the  highest  honors  many  times  over.  Thus 
the  aristocracy  was  composed  of  the  families  of  those  who 
had  held  the  highest  offices  of  the  state ;  but  as  these 
offices  were  controlled  by  the  Senate  and  enjoyed  by  the 
patricians  chiefly,  it  was  difficult  to  determine  whether 
nobility  was  the  result  of  patrician  blood,  or  the  possession 
of  great  offices.  A  man  could  scarcely  be  a  patrician  who 
had  not  held  a  great  office  ;  nor  could  he  often  hold  a  great 
office  unless  he  were  a  patrician.  The  great  The  Senate 
offices  were  held  in  succession  by  the  members  of  ££*t fc^ces 
the  Senate.  The  two  consuls,  the  ten  tribunes,  of  8tate- 
the  eight  praetors  in  the  time  of  Sulla  —  the  twenty 
quaestors,  together  with  the  governors  of  provinces,  and 
the  generals  who  were  selected  from  the  Senate,  or  be 
longed  to  it,  would  necessarily  compose  a  large  part  of  the 
nobility,  when  their  term  of  office  lasted  but  a  limited 
time,  so  that  a  senator  with  any  ability  was  sure,  in  the 
course  of  his  life,  of  the  highest  honors  of  the  state. 

The  great  executive  officers,  therefore,  belonged  to  the 
noble  class,  not  of  necessity,  but  as  a  general  thing.  Cicero 
was  a  novus  homo,  and  yet  rose  by  his  talents  to  the  highest 


204  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.V. 

dignities.     It  was  rare,  however,  to  confer  the  highest  of- 
Butoniy        fices  on  those  who  had  not  distinguished  them- 

those  who 


.  -HCM- 

selves  in   war.      Military  fame,   after  all,   gave 

guished  «J 

themselves,  the  greatest  prestige  to  the  Roman  name.  Con 
suls  commanded  armies,  but  they  would  not  have  been 
chosen  consuls  except  for  military,  as  well  as  political, 
talent. 

The  consul  was,  after  the  abolition  of  the  monarchy,  the 
highest  officer  of  the  state.  It  was  not  till  the  year  366 
B.  c.  that  a  plebeian  obtained  this  dignity.  The  powers  of 
consuls  were  virtually  those  of  the  old  kings,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  priestly  authority.  They  convened  the  Senate, 
introduced  ambassadors,  called  together  the  people,  con 
ducted  elections,  commanded  the  armies  and  never 

The  consuls. 

appeared  in  public  without  hctors.  Nor  were 
they  shorn  of  their  powers  till  Julius  Ca3sar  assumed  the 
dictatorship.  The  whole  internal  machinery  of  the  state 
was  under  their  control.  But  their  term  of  office  lasted 
only  a  single  year.  Their  election  took  place  in  the 
Comitia  C'enfuriata. 

The   censors  were   next   in  dignity,  and  like 

The  censors.  111., 

the  consuls,  there  were  two,  and  elected  m  the 
same  manner  under  the  presidency  of  a  consul  ;  only  men 
of  consular  rank  were  chosen  to  this  high  office,  and 
hence  it  was  really  higher  than  the  consulship.  The  cen 
sors  were  chosen  for  a  longer  term  than  the  consuls,  and 
had  the  oversight  of  the  public  morals,  the  care  of  the 
census,  and  the  administration  of  the  finances.  They 
could  brand  with  ignominy  the  highest  persons  of  the  state, 
and  could  elect  to  the  Senate,  and  exclude  from  it  un 
worthy  men.  They  had,  with  the  aBdiles,  the  control  of 
the  public  buildings  and  all  public  works.  They  could 
take  away  from  a  knight  his  horse,  and  punish  extrava 
gance  in  living,  or  the  improper  dissolution  of  the  marriage 
rite.  They  were  held  in  the  greatest  reverence,  and  when 
they  died  were  honored  with  magnificent  funerals. 


-J" 


CHAP,  v.]  TJie  Prcetors  and  Tribunes.  205 

Next  in  rank  were  the  praetors,  at  first  two  in  number, 
and  ultimately  sixteen.     They  exercised  the  ju-   Theprse- 
dicial  power,  both  in  civil  and  criminal  cases. 

The  aedilcs  were  also  curule  magistrates,  and  to  them 
was  entrusted  the  care  of  the  public  buildings, 

.        .  P  i  i.         P       •       i        Thesedilea. 

and  the  superintendence  ot  public  festivals. 
They  were  the  keepers  of  the  decrees  of  the  Senate,  and 
of  the  plebiscita.  They  superintended  the  distribution  of 
water,  the  care  of  the  streets,  the  drainage  of  the  city, 
and  the  distribution  of  corn  to  the  people.  It  was  their 
business  to  see  that  no  new  deities  were  introduced,  and 
they  had  the  general  superintendence  of  the  police,  and  the 
inspection  of  baths.  Their  office  entailed  large  expenses, 
and  they  were  forced  into  great  extravagance  to  gain  pop 
ularity,  as  in  the  case  of  Julius  Caesar  and  JEmilius 
Scaurus  ;  but  the  gediles  exercised  extensive  powers,  which, 
however,  were  essentially  diminished  under  the  emperors. 
Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  the  tribunes  in  con 
nection  with  the  development  of  the  plebeian  Thetri. 
power.  At  first  they  were  only  two,  then  in-  bunes- 
creased  to  five,  and  finally  to  ten.  It  was  their  business 
to  protect  the  plebs  from  the  oppression  of  nobles,  but 
their  authority  was  so  much  increased  in  the  time  of  Julius 
Caesar  that  they  could  veto  an  ordinance  of  the  Senate.1 
They  not  only  could  stop  a  magistrate  in  his  proceedings, 
but  command  their  viatores  to  seize  a  consul  or  a  censor, 
to  imprison  him,  or  throw  him  from  the  Tarpeian  rock.2 
The  college  of  tribunes  had  the  power  of  making  edicts. 
After  the  passage  of  the  Hortensian  law,  there  was  no  power 
equal  to  theirs,  and  they  could  dictate  even  to  the  Senate 
itself.  In  the  latter  days  of  the  republic,  the  tribunes  were 
generally  elected  from  among  the  senators.  It  was  the 
vast  influence  which  the  people  had  obtained  through  the 
tribunes  which  led  to  the  usurpation  of  Caesar  ;  for  he,  as 

1  Cajsar,  De  Bell  Civ.,  1,  2.      2  Liv.  ii.  56,  iv.  26 ;  Cicero,  De  Legibus,  iii.  9. 


206  TJie  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  V 

well  as  Marius,  rose  into  power  by  courting  them  against 
the  interests  of  the  aristocracy. 

The  last  of  the  great  magistrates  whose  office  entitled 
The  qua*-  tnem  to  a  seat  nl  tne  Senate  were  the  quaestors, 
who  had  charge  of  the  public  money.  Originally 
only  two  in  number,  they  were  raised  by  Sulla  to  twenty, 
and  by  Caesar  to  forty,  for  political  influence.  As  the 
Senate  had  the  supreme  direction  of  the  finances  they  were 
merely  its  agents  or  paymasters.  The  proconsul  or  praetor, 
who  had  the  administration  of  a  province,  was  attended 
with  a  quaestor  to  regulate  the  collection  of  the  revenues. 
The  quaestors  also  were  the  paymasters  of  the  army. 

Such  were  the  great  executive  officers  of  the  state,  hav 
ing  a  seat  in  the  Senate,  and  belonging  to  the  noble  class  by 
their  official  position  as  well  as  by  birth.  No  one  could 
be  consul  until  he  had  passed  through  all  these  offices  suc 
cessively,  except  the  censorship. 

There  was,  however,  another  great  Roman  dignitary 
Pontifex  wno  neld  his  office  for  life,  which  was  one  of 
Maxmms.  transcendent  importance.  He  was  at  the  head 
of  the  college  of  priests,  which  had  the  superintendence  of 
all  matters  of  religion.  The  college  of  pontiffs,  of  which, 
under  Julius  Caesar,  there  were  sixteen,  were  not  priests, 
but  stood  above  all  priests,  and  regulated  the  worship  of 
the  gods,  and  punished  offenses  against  religion.  The 
chief  pontiff  lived  in  a  public  palace  in  the  Via  Sacra,  and 
might  also  hold  other  offices.  It  is  a  great  proof  of  the 
talents  of  Caesar  and  of  the  estimation  in  which  he  was 
held,  that,  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven,  he  was  chosen  to 
this  high  dignity,  against  the  powerful  opposition  of 
Catulus,  prince  of  the  Senate,  and  when  he  had  only 
reached  the  aedileship. 

In  regard  to  the  assemblies  of  the  people,  where  they 
Assemblies  voted  for  the  great  officers  of  state,  it  must  be 

of  the  peo-       «  •  .  -  «      «  i 

pie.  borne  in  mind  that  they  were  not  made  up  of 

the  rabble,  but  of  the  populus  or  the  patricians  till  nearly 


•  / 

V 

CHAP,  v.]  The  Comitia.  207 

the  close  of  the  republic.  Each  of  the  thirty  curia  had  its 
building  for  the  discussion  of  political  and  legal  questions. 
They  had  also  collectively  an  assembly,  called  Comitia 
Curiata,  where  the  people  voted  on  the  measures  proposed 
by  the  magistrates.  The  votes  were  given  by  the  curia?, 
each  curia  having  one  collective  vote.  The  assembly 
originated  nothing,  but  decided  upon  the  life  of  Roman 
citizens,  upon  peace  and  war,  and  the  election  of  magis 
trates.  This  was  the  primitive  form  under  the  kings. 
But  Servius  Tullius  instituted  the  Comitia  Centuriata,  and 
hence  divided  the  populus  into  six  property  classes,  and  one 
hundred  and  ninety-three  centurise.  The  first  class  was 
composed  of  ninety-eight  centuria?,  with  a  property  qualifi 
cation  of  one  hundred  thousand  asses  ;  the  second  of  twenty- 
two  centurise  with  seventy-five  thousand  asses;  the  third  of 
twenty,  with  fifty  thousand  asses  ;  the  fourth  of  twenty-two, 
with  twenty-five  thousand  asses;  the  fifth  of  thirty,  with 
eleven  thousand  asses  ;  and  the  sixth  of  any  one  of  those 
below  twelve  and  a  half  mina3.  Yet  this  class  was  the  most 
numerous.  The  wealthier  classes  voted  first,  and  when  a 
majority  of  the  centuries  was  obtained  the  voting  stopped. 
Hence  the  power  was  virtually  in  the  hands  of  the  rich  ; 
for,  united,  they  made  a  majority  before  the  poorer  classes 
were  called  upon  to  vote.  The  Comitia  Centuriata  TheCom- 

1  •  TIT  n  itia  Centu' 

elected  the  magistrates  and  made  laws,  and  formed  riata. 
the  highest  court  of  appeal,  but  all  its  decisions  had  to  be 
sanctioned  by  the  curia?,  although  in  course  of  time  the 
curia  was  a  formality.  The  centuries  met  in  the  Cam 
pus  Martius,  and  were  presided  over  by  the  consuls,  who 
read  the  names  of  the  candidates.  In  the  assemblies 
by  centuries,  the  vote  of  the  first  class  prevailed  over  all 
the  others;  in  the  comitia  by  curiae  the  patricians  were 
supreme. 

The  Comitia  Tributa  represented  the  thirty  Roman 
tribes  according  to  the  Servian  constitution,  to  Thecomitia 
whom  was  originally  given  the  right  to  elect  in-  Tnbuta- 


208  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

ferior  magistrates.  This  was  a  plebian  assembly,  and  had 
very  insignificant  powers,  chiefly  relating  to  the  local 
affairs  of  the  tribes.  But  when  these  tribes  began  to  be 
real  representatives  of  the  people,  with  the  increase  of 
the  plebeian  classes,  matters  affecting  the  whole  state  were 
brought  before  them  by  the  tribunes.  This  gave  to  the 
assembly  the  initiative  of  measures,  which  was  sanctioned 
by  a  law  of  L.  Valerius  Publicola,  B.  c.  449.  This  law  gave 
to  the  decrees  passed  by  the  tribes  the  power  of  a  real  lex, 
binding  upon  the  whole  people,  provided  it  had  the  sanction 
of  the  Senate  and  the  populus  in  the  Comitia  Centuriata. 
In  287  B.  c.  the  Hortensian  law  made  the  plebiscite  inde 
pendent  of  the  sanction  of  the  Senate.  When  the  plebeians 
began  to  be  recognized  as  an  essential  element  in  the  state, 
it  was  found  inconvenient  to  have  the  first  class,  which  in 
cluded  the  equites,  so  greatly  preponderant  in  the  comitia 
of  the  centuries  ;  and  it  was  designed  to  blend  the  Comitia 
Centuriata  and  the  Tributa  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make 
only  one  assembly.  This  took  place  after  the  completion 
of  the  thirty-five  tribes,  B.  c.  241.  The  citizens  of  each 
tribe  were  divided  into  five  property  classes,  and  each  tribe 
into  ten  centuries,  making  three  hundred  and  fifty  centuries. 
This  comitia  was  far  more  democratic  than  the  comitia  of 
the  centuries,  and  was  guided  by  the  tribunes.  When  all 
the  Italians  were  incorporated  with  the  thirty-five  tribes, 
Decline  of  violence  and  bribery  became  the  order  of  the 
e  day.  Sulla  took  away  the  jurisdiction  of  the  peo 


ple,  and  Julius  Caesar  encroached  still  more  on  popular 
rights  when  he  decided  upon  peace  and  war  in  connection 
with  the  Senate  —  which  great  question  was  formerly 
settled  by  the  comitia  alone.  The  people  retained  nothing 
under  him  but  the  election  of  magistrates,  which  amounted 
to  little,  since  Caesar  had  the  right  to  appoint  half  the 
magistrates  himself,  with  the  exception  of  the  consuls. 
After  the  death  of  Cassar,  the  comitia  continued  to  be  held, 
but  was  always  controlled  by  the  rulers,  whose  unlimited 


CHAP,  v.]         Autocratic  Power  always  Great.  209 

powers  were  ultimately  complied  with  without  resistance. 
Finally  the  comitia  became  a  mere  farce,  and  all  legislation 
passed  away  forever,  and  was  completely  in  the  hands  of 
the  emperor  and  Senate. 

Thus  it  would  appear  that  the  Roman  constitution  was 
essentially  aristocratic,  especially  for  three  hundred  years 
after  the  expulsion  of  kings.  The  Senate  and  the  populus 
had  the  whole  power.  Gradually,  as  wealth  increased,  the 
equites  became  an  influential  order,  not  less  aristocrat- 
ical  than  the  patricians.  The  plebs  were  not  of  much  con 
sideration  till  the  time  of  the  Gracchi,  and  always  obtained 
office'  with  difficulty.  It  was  two  hundred  years  after  the 
expulsion  of  kings  before  the  plebeians  could  even  obtain 
a  share  of  the  public  lands.  So  long  as  the  aristocracy 
preserved  their  virtue  and  patriotism,  the  state  was  most 
ably  administered,  and  continually  increased  in  wealth  and 
power.  The  conquest  of  Italy  was  entirely  under  the 
regime  of  nobles,  and  even  when  wealthy  plebeian  families 
mingled  with  the  ancient  patricians  there  was  still  great 
difficulty  in  reaching  preferment,  without  the  advantages  of 
birth.1  In  fourteen  years,  from  399  to  412,  the  Thenobles 
patricians  allowed  only  six  plebeians  to  reach  cWef^Sen- 
the  consulship.  The  lives  of  the  citizens  were  dency> 
protected  by  the  laws,  but  public  opinion  remained  power 
less  at  the  assassination  of  those  who  incurred  the  hatred  of 
the  Senate.  The  comitia  were  free,  but  the  Senate  had 
at  its  disposal  either  the  veto  of  the  tribunes  or  the  religious 
scruples  of  the  people,  for  a  consul  could  prevent  the 
meeting  of  the  assemblies,  and  the  augurs  could  cut  short 
their  deliberations.  Even  the  dictatorship  was  often  a 
means  of  oppressing  the  plebs,  and  was  a  lever  in  the  hands 
of  the  aristocracy,  since  the  dictator  was  appointed  by  the 
consuls  under  the  direction  of  the  Senate.2  He  was  a 
patrician  as  a  matter  of  course,  until  the  political 

,.     .         .  ,  .    .  111-  The  dictator 

distinctions  between  patrician  and  plebeian  were 

>  Mommsen,  Roman  Hist.,  i.  p.  241.  2  Liv.,  viii.  23. 

14 


210  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

removed,  and  had  absolute  authority  for  six  months.  He 
was  not  held  responsible  for  his  acts  while  in  office,1  nor 
was  there  any  appeal  from  his  decisions.  He  was  pre 
ceded  by  twenty-four  lictors,  and  was  virtually  supreme. 
Between  390  and  416  there  were  eighteen  dictators. 

C5 

The  Senate  thus  remained  all-powerful,  in  spite  of  the 
victories  of  the  plebeians,  and  such  were  its  patriotism  and 
intelligence  that  it  preserved  its  preponderance.  It  was 
during  the  conquest  of  Italy  that  aristocratic  power 
shone  in  all  its  splendor,  and  the  most  able  men  were  en 
trusted  with  public  affairs.  Every  thing  was  sacrificed  to 
patriotism,  and  discipline  was  enforced  with  cruelty.  .  The 
most  powerful  patricians  readily  exposed  their  lives  in 
battle,  and  a  town  became  a  people  which  ultimately  em 
braced  the  world.  When  the  plebeians  had  grown  to 
be  a  power  the  decline  of  the  republic  commenced,  and  a 
new  organization  was  necessary.  Great  chieftains  became 
dictators  for  life,  and  the  imperial  sceptre  was  seized  by  an 
unscrupulous  but  enlightened  general.  The  Roman  popu- 
lus  in  an  important  sense  carried  out  the  great 
idea  of  self-government,  but,  strictly  speak 
ing,  self-government,  as  applied  to  the  people  generally, 
never  existed  in  the  Roman  Commonwealth.  But  the 
idea  was  advanced  which  gave  birth  to  future  republics. 
Nor  did  the  fall  of  the  old  patrician  oligarchy  divest  the 
Roman  commonwealth  of  its  aristocratic  character,  for  a 
new  aristocracy  arose.  When  the  plebeian  families  ob 
tained  the  consulate  and  other  high  offices  of  state,  they 
were  put  on  a  level  with  the  old  patrician  families,  and 
were  allowed  the  privilege  of  placing  the  wax  images  of 
their  illustrious  ancestors  in  the  family  hall,  and  to  have 
these  images  carried  in  the  funeral  procession.  As  curule 
magistrates,  they  had  a  seat  in  the  Senate,  and  wore 
the  insignia  of  rank  — the  gold  finger-ring  and  the 
purple  border  on  the  toga.  "  The  result  of  the  Licinian 

1  Becker,  Handbuch  der  Romanisch  Alterthiimer,  vii.   p.  2 ;  Nieb.  History  of 
Rome,  vol.  i.  p.  563. 


CHAP,  v.]          Tie  Senate  the  Ruling  Power. 

laws,"    says    Mommsen,    "in    reality,   only  amounted  to 
what  we  now  call  the  creation  of  a  new  batch  of  officers. 
As  all   the   descendants  of  those  who   had   enjoyed   the 
curule  magistracy  were  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  these 
distinctions,  the  nobility  became  hereditary.     And  as  the 
great  officers  of  state  were  generally  selected   from   this 
class,  since  they  controlled  the  comitia,  the  nobility  was  not 
merely  hereditary,  but  it  was  a  governing  nobility, 
nobility  had  the  possession  of  the  Senate  itself.  £.£3. 
It  monopolized  the  great  offices  of  state.      The  "-»«-• 
stability  of  the  Roman  aristocracy  is  seen  in  the  fact,  that, 
from  the  year  388  to  581,  when  the  consulate  was  held  by 
one  patrician  and  one  plebeian,  one  hundred  and  forty  of  the 
consuls,  out  of  the  three  hundred  and  eighty-six,  belonged 
to  sixteen  great  houses.     The   Cornelii  furnished    thirty 
consuls  in  one  hundred  and  ninety-three  years  the  Vale- 
rii   eighteen,  the  Claudii  twelve,  the  jEmih.  fifteen,  the 
Fabii"  twelve,  the    Manlii   ten,  the   Postumii   eight,  the 
Servilii  seven,  the  Sulpicii  eight,  the  Papirii  four,  to  say 
nothing  of  other  curule  offices.     Thus  the  nobility  was  not 
composed  exclusively  of  patrician  families,  although  these 
were  the  most  numerous,  but  of  old  plebeian  families  also, 
in  the  same  way  that  the  English  House  of  Lords  is  com 
posed  of  families  which  trace  their  origin  to  Saxons  as  well 
as  Normans,  although  the  Normans,  for  several  centuries, 
were  the  governing  class.     And  as  the  House  of  Lords  has 
accessions  occasionally  from  the  ranks  of  the  people,  in  con 
sequence  of  great  wealth,  or  political  interest,  or  eminent 
genius,  or  signal  success  in  war,  so  the  Roman   nobility 
was  increased,  as  old  families  died  out,  by  the  successful 
generals  who  gained  the  great  offices  of  state       Manns 
arose  from  the  people,  but  his  exploits  in  the  held  of  battle 
insured  his  entrance  among  the  nobility  in  consequence  of 
the  offices  he  held,  even  as  the  Lord  Chancellors  of  Eng 
land,  who  have  been  eminent  lawyers  merely,  are  made 
herditary  peers  in  consequence  of  their  judicial  position. 

1  Mommsen,  B.  III.  c.  xi. 


212  The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

The  Roman  burgesses  again  were  any  thing  but  a  rab- 
Roman  ^le.  They  were  composed  of  men  of  standing 
citizens.  ancj  wealtn.  If  they  did  not  compose  the  mo 
tive-power,  they  constituted  a  firm  foundation  of  the  state. 
They  had  a  clear  conception  of  the  common  good,  and  a 
sagacity  in  the  election  of  rulers,  and  a  spirit  of  sacrifice 
for  the  general  interests.  They  had  a  lofty  patriotism  that 
nothing  could  seduce.  The  rabble  of  Rome  were  of  no 
account  until  the  enormous  wealth  of  the  senatorial  houses 
raised  up  clients  and  parasites.  And  when  this  rabble, 
who  were  merely  the  dependents  of  the  rich,  obtained  the 
privilege  of  voting,  then  the  decline  of  liberties  was  rapid 
and  fearful,  since  they  were  merely  the  tools  of  powerful 
demagogues. 

Thus  among  the  Romans,  until  the  prostration  of  their 
liberties,  the  powers  of  government  were  not  in  the  hands 
of  kings,  as  among  the  Orientals,  nor  in  those  of  the  aris- 
Baiance  of  tocracy,  exclusively,  nor  in  those  of  the  people  ; 
but  in  all  combined,  one  class  acting  as  a  check 
against  another  class.  They  were  shared  between  the 
Senate,  the  magistrates,  and  the  people  in  their  assemblies. 
Theoretically,  the  populus  was  the  real  sovereign  by  whom 
power  was  delegated ;  but,  for  several  centuries,  the  pop 
ulus  meant  the  patricians,  who  alone  could  take  part  in  the 
assemblies.  The  preponderating  influence  was  exercised 
by  the  Senate.  The  judicial,  the  legislative,  and  the  ex 
ecutive  authority  were  as  clearly  defined  as  in  our  times. 
The  magistrates  were  all  elected  by  the  Senate  or  the  peo 
ple,  and  sometimes  proposed  by  the  one  and  confirmed  by 
the  other.  No  case,  involving  the  life  of  a  Roman  citizen, 
could  be  decided  except  by  the  Comitia  Centuriata.  The 
election  of  a  magistrate,  or  the  passing  of  a  law,  though 
made  on  the  ground  of  a  senatus  consultum,  yet  required 
the  sanction  of  the  curise.  In  legislative  measures,  a  se- 
natus  consultum  was  brought  before  the  people  by  the  con 
sul,  or  the  senator  who  originated  the  measure,  after  it  had 


CHAP,  v.]  Balance  of  the  Ruling  Powers.  213 

previously  been  exhibited  in  public  for  seventeen  days. 
The  inferior  magistrates,  whose  office  it  was  to  superintend 
affairs  of  local  interest,  were  elected  by  the  Comitia  Tri- 
buta.  All  the  magistrates,  however  great  their  power, 
could,  at  the  expiration  of  their  office,  be  punished  for 
transcending  their  trust.  No  person  was  above  the  author 
ity  of  the  laws.  No  one  class  could  subvert  the  liberties 
and  prerogatives  of  another.  The  Senate  had  the  most 
power,  but  it  could  not  ride  over  the  Constitution.  The 
consuls  were  not  the  creatures  of  the  Senate  ;  they  were 
elected  by  the  centuries,  and  presided  over  the  Senate,  as 
well  as  the  assembly  of  the  people.  The  abuse  of  power 
by  a  consul  was  prevented  by  his  colleague,  and  by  the 
certainty  of  being  called  to  account  on  the  expiration  of  his 
office.  His  power  was  also  limited  by  the  Senate,  since 
he  was  dependent  upon  it.  There  was  no  absolute  power 
exercised  at  Rome,  except  by  the  dictators,  but  they  were 
appointed  only  in  a  national  crisis,  and  then  only  for  six 
months.  Unless  their  power  were  perpetuated,  not  even 
they  could  overturn  the  constitution.  The  senators  again, 
the  most  powerful  body  in  the  state,  were  not  entirely  in 
dependent.  They  could  not  elect  members  of  their  own 
body,  nor  keep  them  in  office.  The  censors  had  the  right 
of  electing  the  senators  from  among  the  ex-magistrates  and 
the  equites,  and  of  excluding  such  as  they  deemed  un 
worthy.  And  as  the  Senate  was  thus  composed  wholly 
of  men  who  had  held  the  highest  offices  or  had  great 
wealth,  it  was  a  body  of  great  experience  and  wisdom. 
Yet  even  this  august  assembly  was  obliged  to  submit  to 
the  introduction  of  any  subject  of  discussion  by  the  tri 
bune.  What  a  counterpoise  to  the  authority  of  this  pow 
erful  body  were  the  tribunes  !  From  their  right  of  appear 
ing  in  the  Senate,  and  of  taking  part  in  its  discussions,  and 
from  their  being  the  representatives  of  the  whole  people, 
in  whom  power  was  supposed  primarily  to  be  lodged,  they 
gradually  obtained  the  right  of  intercession  against  any 


214  Tfte  Roman   Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

action  which  a  magistrate  might  undertake  during  the  time 
of  his  office,  and  without  giving  a  reason.  They  could 
not  only  prevent  a  consul  from  convening  the  Senate,  but 
could  veto  an  ordinance  of  the  Senate  itself.  They  could 
even  seize  a  consul  and  a  censor  and  imprison  him.  Thus 
was  power  marvelously  distributed,  even  while  it  remained 
in  the  hands  of  the  higher  classes.  The  people  were  not 
powerless  when  their  assemblies  could  make  laws  and  ap 
point  magistrates,  and  when  their  tribunes  could  veto  the 
most  important  measures.  The  consuls  could  not  remain 
in  office  long  enough  to  be  dangerous,  and  the  senators 
could  be  ejected  from  their  high  position  when  flagrantly 
unworthy.  "  The  nobiles  had  no  legal  privileges  like 
a  feudal  aristocracy,  but  they  were  bound  together  by  a 
common  distinction  derived  from  a  legal  title,  and  by  a 
common  interest ;  and  their  common  interest  was  to  en 
deavor  to  confine  the  election  to  all  the  high  magistracies 
to  the  members  of  their  own  body."  The  term  nobilitas 
implied  that  some  one  of  a  man's  ancestors  had  filled  a 
curule  magistracy,  and  it  also  implied  the  possession  of 
wealth.  Theoretically  it  would  seem  that  the  nobi/es  were 
very  numerous,  since  so  many  people  can  ordinarily  boast 
of  an  illustrious  ancestor  ;  but  practically  the  class  was  not 
so  large  as  we  might  expect.  A  noble  might  be  poor,  but 
still,  like  Sulla,  he  remained  noble.  The  distinction  of 
patrician  was,  long  before  the  reforms  of  the  Gracchi,  of 
secondary  importance  ;  that  of  nobilitas  remained  to  the 
close  of  the  republic.  The  nobility  kept  themselves  ex 
clusive  and  powerful  from  the  possession  of  the  great  offices 
of  state  from  generation  to  generation  ;  they  prevented 
their  own  extinction  by  admitting  into  their  ranks  those 
who  distinguished  themselves  to  an  eminent  degree. 

But  this  state  of  things  applied  only  to  the  republic  in 
Thereignof  ^ts  palmy  days.  When  democratical  influences 
demagogues.  favorec[  ^he  ascendency  of  demagogues,  —  thus 
far  in  the  history  of  our  world,  the  inevitable  consequence 


CHAP,  v.]  The  Reign  of  Demagogues.  215 

of  a  greater  extension  of  popular  liberties  than  what  the 
people  are  prepared  for,  — then  wholesome  restraints  were 
removed,  and  the  people  were  the  most  enslaved,  when 
they  thought  themselves  most  free.      There    is   no   more 
melancholy    slavery    than    the    slavery    of    the    passions. 
Ignorant  self-indulgent  people  are  led  by  their  passions  ; 
they  are   rarely  influenced   by  reason   or  by   enlightened 
self-interest.      Those   who  most  skillfully  and    unscrupu 
lously  appeal  to  popular  passions,  when  the  people  have 
power,  have  necessarily  the  ascendency  in  the  community. 
The  people,   deceived,  flattered,  headstrong,  follow   them 
willingly.     In  times  of  war,  and  especially  among  a  mar 
tial   people,  military  chieftains,  by  inflaming  the  warlike 
passions,  by  holding  out  exaggerated  notions  of  glory,  by 
appealing  to  vanity  and  patriotism  mingled,  have  ever  had 
a  most  extraordinary  influence  in  republics.     They  have 
also  great  influence  in  monarchies,  when  the  monarch  is 
crazed   by    the    passion   of  military    success.       Monarchs, 
with  the  passions  of  the  people,  are   led  by  men  who  flat 
ter  them  even  as  the  people  are  led.     Hence  the  reign  of 
favorites  with  kings.      The  ascendency  of  favorites,   with 
sovereigns  like   Louis   XIII.,   or  even   like    Louis  XIV., 
is  maintained  by  the  same  policy  as  that  which  animated 
Marius  and  Caesar,  or  animates  the   popular  favorites  of 
our  times.     And  this  ascendency  may  be  for  the  better  or 
the  worse,  according  to  the  character  of  the  demagogue 
rulers,  or  royal  favorites.     When  a  Richelieu  or  a  Cavour 
holds  the  reins,  a  country  may  be  indirectly  benefited  by 
the  wisdom  of  their  public  acts.     When  a  Buckingham  or 
a  Catiline  prevails,  a  nation  suffers  a  calamity.     In  either 
case,  the  power  which  is  conceded  to  be   legitimate  be 
comes  a  mockery.     With  Caesar,  the  popular  power  is  a 
mere  name,  even,  as  with  Richelieu,  the  kingly  is  a  shadow. 
In  the  better  days  of  the   Roman  republic,  the  executive 
power  was  kept  in  a  healthy  state  by  the  great  authority 
of  the  Senate,  and  the  senatorial  influence  was  prevented 


216  The  Roman   Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

from  undue  encroachment  by  the  watchfulness  of  the  trib 
unes.     And  when  the  aristocratical  ascendency  was  most 
marked,  the  aristocratical  body  had   too  much  virtue  and 
ability  to  be  enslaved  by  ambitious  and  able  men  of  their 
own  number.     Had   the  Roman  Senate,  in  the  height  of 
its  power,  been  composed  of  ignorant,  inexperienced,  self 
ish,  unpatriotic  members,  then  it  would  have  been  easy  for 
a  great  intellect  among  them,  whether  accompanied    by 
virtue    or  not,  by  appealing  perpetually  to  their  pride,  to 
their  rank,  to  their  privileges,  to  their  peculiar  passions,  to 
have  led  them,  as  Pitt  led  the  House  of  Commons.     The 
real   rulers  of  our  world   are  few,  in   any  community,  or 
under   any  form  of  government.     They  are  always  dan 
gerous,   when    there  is  a  low   degree   of  virtue  or  intelli 
gence  among  those  whom   they  represent.     Certain  it  is, 
that  their  power  is  nearly  absolute  when  they  are  sustained 
by  passion  or  prejudice.     The  representative  of  a  fanatical 
constituency  has  no  continued  power,  unless  he  perpetually 
flatters  those  whom,  in  his  heart,  he  knows  to  be  lost  to 
the  control  of  reason.     And  his  influence  is  greater  or  less, 
according  to  the  strength  of  the  popular  passions  which  he 
inflames,   or   in   which,  as    is   often  the  case,    he    shares. 
The  honest  representative  of  fanatics  is  himself  a  fanatic. 
Thus  Cromwell  had  so  great  an  ascendency  with  his  party, 
because  he  felt  more  strongly  than  they  in  matters  where 
they  sympathized.     But  the  liberties  of  Rome  were  not 
overturned  by  fanatical   rulers,  but  by  those  who  availed 
themselves  of  the  passions  which  they  themselves  did  not 
feel,  in  order  to  compass  their  selfish  ends.     And  that  is 
the  greater  danger  in  republics  —  that  bad  men  rise  by  the 
suffrage  of  foolish  people  whom  they  deceive,  by  affecting 
to  fall   in   with  their   wishes,   like    Napoleon  and  Ca3sar, 
rather  than  that  honest  men   climb  to  power  by  the  very 
excess   of  their   enthusiasm,  like   Cromwell,  or  Peter  the 
Hermit.     Hence   a  Mirabeau  is  more    dangerous  than  a 
Robespierre.     The  former  would  have  betrayed  the  peo- 


CHAP,  v.]  Excellence  of  the   Constitution.  217 

pie  he  led  ;  the  latter  would  have  urged  them  on  to  con 
sistent  courses,  even  if  the  way  was  lined  with  death. 
Had  Mirabeau  lived,  and  retained  his  power,  he  would 
have  compromised  the  Revolution,  of  which  Napoleon  was 
the  product,  and  the  work  would  have  had  to  be  done  over. 
But  Robespierre  pushed  his  principles  to  their  utmost  logi 
cal  sequence,  and  the  nation  was  satisfied  with  their  folly, 
in  a  practical  point  of  view.  Napoleon  arose  to  rebuke 
anarchy  as  well  as  feudal  kings,  and  though  maddened  and 
intoxicated  by  war,  so  that  his  name  is  a  Moloch,  he  never 
dreamed  of  restoring  the  unequal  privileges  which  the  Rev 
olution  swept  away. 

The  Roman  constitution,  as  gradually  developed  by  the 
necessities  and  crises  which  arose,  is  a  wonderful   Greatness  of 
monument  of  human  wisdom.     The  people  were  tion. 
not  ground  down.     They  had  rights  which  they  never  re 
linquished  ;  and  they  constantly  gained  new  privileges,  as 
they  were  prepared  to  appreciate  them,  or  as  they  were  in 
danger   of    subjection    by  the   governing   classes.      They 
never  had  the  ascendency,  but  they  enjoyed  renewed  and 
increasing  power,  until  they  were  strong  enough  to  tempt 
aristocratic  demagogues  and   successful  generals.     When 
Caesar  condescended  to  flatter  the  people,  they  had  become 
a  power,  but  a  power  incapable  of   holding  its  own,  or 
using  it  for  the  welfare  of  the  state.      Then   it  was  sub 
verted,  as  Napoleon  rode  into  absolute  dominion  over  the 
bridge  which  the  Revolution  had  built.     And  the  Roman 
constitution  was  remarkable,  not  only  because  it  prevented 
a  degrading  subjection  of  the  masses,  even  while  it  refused 
them  the  rights  of  government,  but  because  it  maintained 
a  balance    among  the  governing  classes    themselves,  and 
restricted  the  usurpations  of  powerful  families,  as  well  as 
military  heroes.    For  nearly  five  hundred  years,  not  a  man 
arose  whom  the  Romans  feared,  or  whom  they  could  not 
control  —  whom  they  could  not  at  any  time  have  hurled 
from    the  Tarpeian    rock  had   he  contemplated  the   sub- 


218  The  Roman   Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

version,  I  will  not  say  of  the  liberties  of  the  people,  but 
of  the  constitution  which  made  the  aristocracy  supreme. 
There  were  ambitious  and  unscrupulous  men,  doubtless, 
among  those  fortunate  generals  whom  the  Senate  snubbed, 
and  whom  the  people  adored.  But,  great  as  they  were  in 
war,  and  powerful  from  family  interest  and  vast  wealth,  no 
one  of  them  ever  dared  to  make  himself  supreme  until 
Csesar  passed  the  Rubicon  —  not  Scipio,  crowned  with  the 
laurels  which  he  had  taken  from  the  head  of  Hannibal ; 
not  Marius,  fresh  from  his  great  victories  over  the  barbaric 
hosts  of  northern  Europe  ;  not  even  Sulla,  after  his  mag 
nificent  conquests  in  the  east,  and  his  triumph  over  all  the 
parties  and  factions  which  democracy  raised  against  him. 
Pompey  may  have  contemplated  what  it  was  the  fortune 
of  Csesar  to  secure.  But  that  pompous  magnate  could 
have  succeeded  only  by  using  the  watchwords  and  prac 
ticing  the  acts  to  which  none  but  a  demagogue  could  have 
stooped.  Before  his  time,  at  least  for  fifty  years,  there 
were  too  many  men  in  the  Senate  who  had  the  spirit  of 
Cato,  of  Cicero,  and  of  Brutus. 

But,  tempora  mutantur.  When  the  Senate  was  made 
TheRevoiu-  UP  of  men  whom  great  generals  selected,  whether 
tion-  aristocratic  sycophants  or  rich  plebeians  ;  when 

the  tribunes  played  into  the  hands  of  the  very  men  whom 
they  were  created  to  oppose ;  when  the  high  priest  of  a 
people,  originally  religious,  was  chosen  without  regard  to 
either  moral  or  religious  considerations,  but  purely  politi 
cal  ;  when  the  high  offices  of  the  state  were  filled  by  sen 
ators  who  had  never  seen  military  life  except  for  some 
brief  campaign  ;  when  factions  and  parties  set  old  cus 
toms  aside ;  when  the  most  aristocratic  nobles  sought  en 
trance  into  plebeian  ranks  in  order,  like  Mirabeau,  to  steal 
the  few  offices  which  the  people  controlled,  and  when 
the  people,  mad  and  fierce  from  demoralizing  spectacles, 
raised  mobs  and  subverted  law,  then  the  constitution, 
under  which  the  Romans  had  advanced  to  the  conquest  of 


CHAP,  v.]       Necessity  for  the  Rule  of  Emperors.  219 

the  world,  became  subverted.  Under  the  emperors,  there 
was  no  constitution.  They  controlled  the  Sen-  Effector 
ate,  the  army,  the  tribunals  of  the  law,  the  rule, 
distant  provinces,  the  city  itself,  and  regulated  taxes  and 
imposed  burdens,  and  appointed  to  high  offices  whomever 
they  wished.  The  Senate  lost  its  independence,  the 
courts  their  justice,  the  army  its  spirit,  and  the  people 
their  hopes.  Yet  the  old  form  remained.  The  Senate 
met  as  in  the  days  of  the  Gracchi.  There  were  consuls  and 
praetors  still.  But  it  was  merely  equites  or  rich  men  who 
filled  the  senatorial  benches  —  tools  of  the  emperor,  as 
were  all  the  officers  of  the  state.  The  government  of 
nobles  was  succeeded  by  the  government  of  emperors  who, 
in  their  turn,  were  too  often  the  tools  of  favorites,  or  of 
pratorian  guards,  until  the  assassin's  dagger  cut  short  their 

days. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  speculate  on  the  good  or  evil 
which  resulted  from    this  change  in  the    Roman  govern 
ment,     Most  historians    and  philosophers  agree    that  the 
change  was  inevitable,  and  proved,  on  the  whole,   Th^f 
benignant.     It  was  simply  the  question  whether  necessity. 
the  Romans  should  have  civil  wars  and  anarchies^ and  fac 
tions,  which  decimated  the  people,  and  kept  society  in  a 
state  of  fear  and  insecurity,  and  prevented  the  triumph  of 
law,  or  whether  they  should  submit  to  an  absolute  ruler, 
who  had  unbounded  means  of  doing  good,  and  whom  in 
terest  and  duty  alike  prompted  to  secure  the  public  wel 
fare.     The  people   wanted,  above  all  things,  safety,  and 
the  means  of  prosecuting  their  various  interests.     Under 
the  emperors  they  obtained  the  greatest  boons  possible, 
when  the  condition  of  society  was  hollow  and  rotten  to 
the  core.     The  people  were  governed,  sometimes  wisely, 
sometimes   recklessly,  but   there  were  order  and  law  for 
three  hundred  years.     It  little  mattered  to  the  vast  popu 
lation  of  the  empire  who  was  supreme  master,  provided 
they  were  not  oppressed.     The  proud  Imperator,  the  title 


The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

and  praenomen  of  all  the  Roman  monarchs,  and  which  had 
been  invented  for  Octavian,  remained  the  fountain  of  law, 
the  arbiter  of  all   interests,   the  undisputed   ruler  of  the 
world.     The  old  offices  nominally  remained,  but,  by  virtue 
of  the  censorship,  the  emperor  had  the  power  of  exclud 
ing  persons  from  the  Senate,  and  of  calling  others  into  it. 
Thus  the  august  body  which  was,  under  the  republic,  the 
counterpoise  to  executive  authority,  was  rendered  depen 
dent  on  the  imperial  will.     There* was  no  Senate,  but  in 
name,  when  it  could  be  controlled  by  the  government.     It 
became  a  mere  form,  or  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  the 
administration,   to  facilitate  business.       By   obtaining  the 
proconsular  power  over  the  whole  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
Octavian    made   the  provincial  governors  his  vicegerents. 
The  tribunicia  potestas  which  he  also  enjoyed,  enabled  him* 
to  annul  any  decree  of  the  Senate,  and  'of  interfering  in 
all  the  acts  of  the  magistrates.   An  appeal  was  open  to  him, 
as  tribune,  from  all  the  courts  of  justice  ;  he  had  a  right 
to  convoke  the  Senate,  and  to  put  any  subject  under  con 
sideration  to  the  vote  of  senators.     Augustus  even  seized 
the  pontificate,  which  office,  that  of  Pontifex  Maximus,  put 
into  his  hands  all  the  ecclesiastical  courts.    As  tribune  and 
censor,   he    also  controlled    the  treasury,  so   that  all   the 
powers  of  the  state  were  concentrated  in  him  alone  —  that 
of  consul,  tribune,  censor,  prsetor,  and  high  priest.     What 
a  power  to  be  exercised  by  one  man   in   so  great  an  em 
pire  !     The  Roman  constitution  was  subverted  when  one 
man  usurped  the  offices  which  were  formerly  shared  by 
many.     No  sovereign    was  ever    so  absolute  as  the    Ro 
man  Imperator,  since   he   combined   all    the  judicial,  the 
executive,  and  the  legislative  branches  of  the  government ; 
that  is,  he  controlled  them  all. 

Yet  the  old  machinery  was  kept  up,  the  old  forms,  the 
The  old         old   offices    in    name,  otherwise    even   Augustus 

forms  of  •    r,  i  e> 

government    might  ii  ot  have  been  secure  on  his  throne.     The 
Comitia  still  elected  magistrates,  but  only  such  as 


CHAP,  v.]    Remorseless  and  Iron  Rule  of  Emperors.      221 

were  proposed  by  the  government.  The  Senate  assembled 
as  usual,  but  it  was  composed  of  rich  men,  merely  to  reg 
ister  the  decrees  of  the  Imperator.  The  consuls  were 
elected  as  before,  but  they  were  mere  shadows  in  author 
ity.  The  only  respectable  part  of  the  magistracy  was  that 
which  interpreted  the  laws.  The  only  final  authority  was 
the  edict  of  the  emperor,  who  not  only  controlled  all  the 
great  offices  of  state,  but  was  possessed  of  enormous  and 
almost  unlimited  private  property.  They  owned  whole 
principalities.  Augustus  changed  the  whole  registration 
of  property  in  Gaul  on  his  own  responsibility,  without  con 
sulting  any  one.1  His  power  was  so  unlimited  that  soldiers 
took  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  him,  as  they  once  did  to  the 
imperium  populi  Romani.  His  armies,  his  fleets,  and  his 
officers  were  everywhere,  and  no  one  dreamed  of  resisting 
a  power  which  absorbed  every  thing  into  itself. 

It  is  altogether  another  question  whether  the  prosper 
ity  of  the  state  was  greater  or  less  after  the  subversion  of 
the  constitution.  For  three  hundred  years  the  state  was 
probably  kept  together  by  the  ancient  mechanism  con 
trolled  by  one  central  will.  The  change  from  civil  war 
arid  party  faction  to  imperial  centralized  power,  considering 
the  demoralized  condition  of  society,  was  doubtless  bene 
ficial.  The  emperor  could  rule  ;  he  could  not,  The  imperial 
however,  conserve  the  empire.  Doubtless,  in  abtrfo^ve 
most  cases,  he  ruled  well,  since  he  ruled  by  the  thestate- 
aid  of  great  experience  and  ability.  It  is  peculiarly  the 
interest  of  despots  to  have  able  men  as  ministers.  They 
never  select  those  whom  they  deem  to  be  weak  and  cor 
rupt  ;  they  are  simply  deceived  in  their  estimate  of  ability 
and  fidelity.  For  several  generations,  the  provinces  had 
experienced  governors,  the  armies  had  able  generals,  the 
courts  of  law  learned  judges.  The  provinces  were  not  so 
inexorably  robbed  as  in  the  time  of  Cicero.  The  people 
had  their  pleasures  and  spectacles  and  baths.  Property 

1  Niebuhr,  Lecture  105. 


The  Roman  Constitution.  [CHAP.  v. 

was  secure,  unless  enormous  fortunes  tempted  the  cupidity 
of  the  emperors.  Justice  was  well  administered.  Cities 
were  rebuilt  and  adorned.  Rome  owed  its  greatest  monu 
ments  of  art  to  the  emperors.  There  was  a  cold  and  re 
morseless  despotism  ;  but  the  unnoticed  millions  toiled  in 
peace.  Literature  did  not  thrive,  since  that  can  only  live 
with  freedom,  but  art  received  great  encouragement,  and 
genius,  in  the  useful  professions,  did  not  go  unrewarded. 
The  empire  did  not  fall  till  luxury  and  prosperity  enervated 
the  people  and  rendered  them  unable  to  cope  with  the  bar 
barian  hosts.  Rome  was  never  so  rich  as  when  she  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Goths  and  Vandals.  But  the  empire, 
under  the  old  constitution,  might  have  protected  itself 
against  external  enemies.  The  mortal  wound  to  Roman 
power  and  glory  was  inflicted  by  traitors. 

AUTHORITIES.  —  Niebuhr,  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Rome; 
Mommsen,  History  of  Rome ;  Arnold,  History  of  Rome ;  Merivale, 
History  of  the  Romans ;  Gibbon,  Decline  and  Fall ;  Smith's  Diction 
ary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Antiquities  gives  the  details,  and  points  out 
the  old  classical  authorities,  as  does  Napoleon's  Life  of  Cjesar.  Diony- 
sius,  Polybius,  Livy,  Plutarch,  Cicero,  Sallust,  all  shed  light  on  impor 
tant  points.  See  also  Gottling,  Gesch  der  Rom.  Staat.  A  large  cata 
logue  of  writers  could  be  mentioned,  but  allusion  is  only  made  to  those 
most  accessible  to  American  readers. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

ROMAN    JURISPRUDENCE. 

IF  the  Romans  showed  great  practical  sagacity  in  dis 
tributing  political  power  among  different  classes  and  per 
sons,  their  laws  evince  still  greater  wisdom.  Jurispru 
dence  is  generally  considered  to  be  their  indigenous  sci 
ence.  It  is  for  this  they  were  most  distinguished,  and  by 
this  they  have  given  the  greatest  impulse  to  civilization. 
Their  laws  were  most  admirably  adapted  for  the  govern 
ment  of  mankind,  but  they  had  a  still  higher  merit ;  they 
were  framed,  to  a  considerable  degree,  upon  the  principles 
of  equity  or  natural  justice,  and  hence  are  adapted  for  all 
ages  and  nations,  and  have  indeed  been  reproduced  by 
modern  lawgivers,  and  so  extensively,  as  to  have  formed 
the  basis  of  many  modern  codes.  Hence  it  is  by  their 
laws  that  the  Romans  have  had  the  greatest  influence 
on  modern  times,  and  these  constitute  a  wonderful  mon 
ument  of  human  genius.  If  the  Romans  had  bequeathed 
nothing  but  laws  to  posterity,  they  would  not  have  lived 
in  vain.  These  have  more  powerfully  affected  the  inter 
ests  of  civilization  than  the  arts  of  Greece.  They  are  as 
permanent  in  their  effects  as  any  thing  can  be  in  this  world 
—  more  so  than  palaces  and  marbles.  The  latter  crumble 
away,  but  the  legacy  of  Gaius,  of  Ulpian,  of  Paulus,  of 
Tribonian,  will  be  prized  to  the  remotest  ages,  not  only  as 
a  wonderful  work  of  genius,  but  for  its  practical  utility. 
The  enduring  influence  of  Moses  is  chiefly  seen  in  his  le 
gislation,  for  this  has  entered  into  the  Christian  codes,  and 
is  also  founded  on  the  principles  of  justice.  It  is  for  this 


224  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

chiefly  that  he  ranks  with  the  greatest  intellects  of  earth, 
whether  he  was  divinely  instructed  or  not. 

Roman  laws  were  first  made  in  reference  to  the  politi- 
object  for  ca^  exigencies  and  changes  of  the  state,  and  after- 
wards  to  the  relations  of  the  state  with  individ- 
ua.\s,  or  of  individuals  with  individuals.  The 
former  pertain  more  properly  to  constitutional  history  ;  the 
latter  belong  to  what  is  called  the  science  of  jurisprudence, 
and  only  fall  in  with  the  scope  of  this  chapter.  The  laws 
enacted  by  the  Roman  people  in  their  centuries,  or  by  the 
Senate,  pertaining  to  political  rights  and  privileges  —  those 
by  which  power  passed  from  the  hands  of  patricians  to 
plebeians,  or  from  the  populus  to  great  executive  officers  — 
are  highly  important  and  interesting  in  an  historical  or 
political  sense.  But  the  genius  of  the  Romans  was  most 
strikingly  seen  in  the  government  of  mankind  ;  and  it  is 
therefore  the  relations  between  the  governing  and  the  gov 
erned,  the  laws  created  for  the  general  good,  pertain 
ing  to  property  and  crime  and  individual  rights,  which,  in 
this  chapter,  it  is  my  chief  object  to  show. 

The  Greeks,  with  all  their  genius,  their  great  creations 
Greeks  in-  in  literature,  philosophy,  and  art,  did  very  little 

ferior  to  the      n          ,    .,.  i  •    i  i        "    • 

Romans  in     for  civilization,  which  we  can  trace,  in  the  science 


of  jurisprudence.  They  were  too  speculative  for 
such  a  practical  science.  Nevertheless  their  speculative 
wisdom  was  made  use  of  by  Roman  jurists.  It  was  only 
so  far  as  philosophy  modified  laws,  that  the  influence  of 
Greece  was  of  much  account. 

Nor  did  Roman  jurisprudence   culminate   in  its  serene 
majesty  till  the   time  of  the   emperors.     It  was 
not  perfectly  developed,  until  Justinian  consoli- 
emperors.       datecl  jt  |n  t^e  QQ([Q^  t]ie  Pandects,  and  the  Insti 

tutes.  The  classical  jurists  may  have  laid  the  foundation  ; 
the  superstructure  was  raised  under  the  auspices  of  those 
whom  we  regard  as  despots. 

Ingenious  writers,  like  Vico  and  Niebuhr,  have  extended 


CHAP,  vi.]  Early  Laws.  225 

their  researches  to  the  government  of  the  kings,  and  ad 
vanced  many  plausible  speculations  ;  but  the  ear-  :E&tly  legisla_ 
liest  legislation  worthy  of  notice,  was  the  celebrat-  tl0fl> 
ed  code  called  the  Twelve  Tables,  framed  from  the  reports 
of  the  commissioners  whom  the  Romans  sent  to  Athens 
and  other  Greek  states,  to  collect  what  was  most  useful 
in  their  legal  systems.  But  scarcely  any  part  of  the 
civil  law  contained  in  the  Twelve  Tables  has  come  down 
to  us.  All  we  know  with  certainty,  is  that  it  was  the  in 
tention  of  the  decemviral  legislation  to  bring  the  estates 
into  closer  connection,  and  to  equalize  the  laws  for  both. 
Nor  do  the  provisions  of  the  decemviral  code,  with  which 
we  are  acquainted,  show  that  enlightened  regard  to  natu 
ral  justice  which  characterized  jurisprudence  in  its  subse 
quent  development.  It  allowed  insolvent  debtors  to  be 
treated  with  great  cruelty ;  they  could  be  imprisoned  for 
sixty  days,  loaded  with  chains,  and  then  might  be  sold  into 
foreign  slavery.  It  sanctioned  a  barbarous  retaliation  — 
an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.  But  it  gave  a 
redress  for  lampoons  or  libels,  allowed  an  appeal  from  the 
magistrate  to  the  people,  and  forbid  capital  punishment 
except  by  a  decision  of  the  centuries.1  Niebuhr  main 
tains,2  in  his  lectures  on  the  History  of  Rome,  that  the 
Twelve  Tables  conceded  the  right  to  every  pater  familias 
of  making  a  will,  by  which  regulation  the  child  of  a  ple 
beian,  by  a  patrician  mother,  could  succeed  to  his  father's 
property,  which  was  of  great  importance,  and  a  great  step 
in  natural  justice.  It  is  supposed  that  the  most  important 
part  of  the  decemviral  legislation  was  the  jus  publicum? 
or  that  which  refers  to  the  Roman  constitution.  The 
Twelve  Tables  obtained  among  the  Romans  a  Thc  Twelve 
peculiar  reverence;  they  were  committed  to  Tables' 
memory  by  the  young;  they  were  transcribed  with  the 
greatest  care,  and  were  considered  as  the  fountain  of  right. 
They  were  approved  by  the  comitia  centuriata,  which  was 

1  Lord  Mackenzie,  part  6.  2  Lecture  25.  8  Cicero,  De  Legibus. 

15 


226  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  vi. 

the  supreme  authority,  and  in  the  time  of  Appius  Clau 
dius  was  composed  of  patricians  alone.  If  Niebuhr  is 
right  in  his  statement  that  the  power  of  making  wills  was 
given  to  plebeians,  it  shows  a  greater  liberality  on  the  part 
of  patricians  than  what  they  generally  have  had  credit 
for,  and  is  hardly  to  be  reconciled  with  the  statement  of 
Lord  Mackenzie,  that  all  marriages  between  patricians  and 
plebeians  were  prohibited  by  the  new  code. 

The  laws  of  the  Twelve  Tables  were  the  basis  of  all  the 
The  Twelve  laws,  civil  and  religious.  But  the  edicts  of  the 
baSTofhRo-  prsetors,  who  were  the  great  equity  judges,  as 
man  law.  wejj  ag  ^  common_law  magistrates,1  proclaimed 
certain  changes  which  custom  and  the  practice  of  the 
courts  had  introduced,  and  these,  added  to  the  leges  populi 
or  laws  proposed  by  the  consul  and  passed  by  the  centu 
ries,  the  plebiscita  or  laws  proposed  by  the  tribunes  and 
passed  by  the  tribes,  and  the  senatus  consulta,  gradually 
swelled  the  laws  to  a  great  number.  Three  thousand 
plates  of  brass,  containing  these  various  laws,  were  depos 
ited  in  the  capitol.2  Subtleties  and  fictions  were  introduced 
by  the  lawyers  to  defeat  the  written  statutes,  and  jurispru 
dence  became  complicated,  even  in  the  time  of  Cicero. 
The  opinions  of  eminent  lawyers  were  even  adopted  by  the 
legal  profession,  and  were  recognized  by  the  courts.  The 
evils  of  a  complicated  jurisprudence  were  so  evident  in 
the  seventh  century  of  the  city,  that  Q.  Mucius  Scasvola, 
a  great  lawyer,  when  consul,  published  a  scientific  elabora 
tion  of  the  civil  law.  Cicero  studied  law  under  him,  and 
his  contemporaries,  Alfenus  Varus  and  ^Elius  Gallus,  wrote 
learned  treatises,  from  which  extracts  appear  in  the  Digest. 
Caesar  contemplated  a  complete  revision  of  the  laws,  but 
did  not  live  long  enough  to  carry  out  his  intentions.  His 
legislation,  so  far  as  he  directed  his  mind  to  it,  was  very 
just.  Among  other  laws  was  one  which  ordained  that 
creditors  should  accept  lands  as  payment  for  their  outstand- 

1  Maine's  Ancient  Law,  p.  67.  2  Suetonius,  In  Vespa. 


CHAP,  vi.]  Progress  of  Roman  Law.  227 

ing  debts,  according  to  the  value  determined  by  commis 
sioners.  In  his  time,  the  relative  value  of  money  had 
changed,  and  was  greatly  diminished.  The  most  impor 
tant  law  of  Augustus,  was  the  lex  celia  sentia,  de-  progreS8of 
serving  of  all  praise,  which  related  to  the  manu-  Roman  law- 
mission  of  slaves.  But  he  did  not  interfere  with  the  social 
relations  of  the  people  after  he  had  deprived  them  of 
political  liberty.  He  once  attempted,  by  his  Lex  Julia  et 
Papia  Poppcea,  to  counteract  the  custom  which  then  pre 
vailed,  of  abstaining  from  legal  marriage  and  substituting 
concubinage  instead,  by  which  the  free  population  declined ; 
but  this  attempt  to  improve  the  morals  of  the  people  met 
with  such  opposition  from  the  tribes  or  centuries,  that 
the  next  emperor  abolished  popular  assemblies  altogether, 
which  Augustus  feared  to  do.  The  Senate,  in  the  time  of 
the  emperors,  composed  chiefly  of  lawyers  and  magistrates, 
and  entirely  dependent  upon  them,  became  the  great  foun 
tain  of  law.  By  the  original  constitution,  the  people  were 
the  source  of  power,  and  the  Senate  merely  gave  or  refused 
its  approbation  to  the  laws  proposed,  but  under  the  emper 
ors  the  comitia  disappeared,  and  the  Senate  passed  decrees, 
which  have  the  force  of  laws,  subject  to  the  veto  of  the 
emperor.  It  was  not  Until  the  time  of  Septimus  Severus 
and  Caracalla,  that  the  legislative  action  of  the  Senate 
ceased,  and  the  edicts  and  rescripts  of  emperors  took  the 
place  of  all  legislation. 

The  golden  age  of  Roman  jurisprudence  was  from  the 
birth  of  Cicero  to  the  reign  of  Alexander  Severus.  Be 
fore  this  period  it  was  an  occult  science,  confined  to  pra3- 
tors,  pontiffs,  and  patrician  lawyers.  There  were  no  books 
nor  schools  to  teach  its  principles.  But  in  the  latter  days 
of  the  republic  law  became  the  fashionable  study  of  Ro 
man  youth,  and  eminent  masters  arose.  The  first  great 
lawyer  who  left  behind  him  important  works,  was  the 
teacher  of  Cicero,  Q.  Mucius  Sca3vola,  who  wrote  Q  Muciua 
a  treatise  in  eighteen  books  on  the  civil  law.  Sc8evola- 


228  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

44  He  was,"  l  says  Cicero,  44  the  most  eloquent  of  jurists,  and 
the  most  learned  of  orators."  This  work,  George  Long 
thinks,  had  a  great  influence  on  contemporaries  and  on 
subsequent  jurists,  who  followed  it  as  a  model.  It  is  the 
oldest  work  from  which  there  are  any  excerpts  in  the 
Digest. 

Servius  Sulpicius,  the  friend  of  Cicero,  and  fellow-stu- 
dent  of  oratory,  surpassed  his  teachers  Balbus 
anc|  Qa]]u^  ancj  was  t|ie  equal  in  reputation  of  the 
great  Mucius  Scaevola,  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  who  said  it 
was  disgraceful  for  a  patrician  and  a  noble  to  be  ignorant  of 
the  law  with  which  he  had  to  do.  Cicero  ascribes  his  great 
superiority  as  a  lawyer  to  the  study  of  philosophy,  which 
disciplined  and  developed  his  mind,  and  enabled  him  to  de 
duce  his  conclusions  from  his  premises  with  logical  precis 
ion.  He  left  behind  him  one  hundred  and  eighty  treatises, 
and  had  numerous  pupils,  among  whom  A.  Oh'lius  and 
Alfenus  Varus,  Cato,  Caesar,  Antony,  and  Cicero,  were 
great  lawyers.  Labeo,  in  the  time  of  Augustus, 
wrote  four  hundred  books  on  jurisprudence, 
spending  six  months  in  the  year  in  giving  instruction  to  his 
pupils,  and  in  answering  legal  questions,  and  the  other  six 
months  in  the  country  in  writing  books.  Like  all  the  great 
Roman  jurists,  he  was  versed  in  literature  and  philosophy, 
and  so  devoted  to  his  profession  that  he  refused  political 
office.  His  rival,  Capito,  was  equally  learned  in  all  depart 
ments  of  the  law,  and  left  behind  him  as  many  treatises  as 
Labeo.  These  two  jurists  were  the  founders  of  celebrated 
schools,  like  the  ancient  philosophers,  and  each  had  distin 
guished  followers.  Masurius  Sabinus  Gains  and  Pom- 
ponius,  were  of  the  school  of  Capito.  M.  Cocceius  Nerva, 
Sempronius  Proculus,  and  Juventius  Celsus,  were  of  the 
school  of  Labeo.  Gaius,  who  flourished  in  the 
time  of  the  Antonines,  was  a  great  legal  author 
ity  ;  and  the  recent  discovery  of  his  Institutes  has  revealed 

1  Cicero,  De  Or.  i.  39. 


CHAP,  vi.]  Roman  Jurists.  229 

the  least  mutilated  fragment  of  Roman  jurisprudence  which 
exists,  and  one  of  the  most  valuable,  and  sheds  great  light 
on  ancient  Roman  law.  It  was  found  in  the  library  of  Ve 
rona.  No  Roman  jurist  had  a  higher  reputation 
than  Papinian,  who  was  prcefectus  prcetorio  under 
Septimius  Severus,  an  office  which  made  him  only  second 
ary  to  the  emperor  —  a  sort  of  grand  vizier  —  whose  power 
extended  over  all  departments  of  the  state.  He  was  be 
headed  by  Caracalla.  The  great  commentator  Cujacius, 
declares  that  he  was  the  first  of  all  lawyers  who  have  been, 
or  who  are  to  be  ;  that  no  one  ever  surpassed  him  in  legal 
knowledge,  and  no  one  will  ever  equal  him.  Paulus  was 
his  contemporary,  and  held  the  same  office  as 
Papinian.  He  was  the  most  fertile  of  Roman 
law-writers,  and  there  is  more  taken  from  him  in  the  Digest 
than  from  any  other  jurist,  except  Ulpian.  There  are 
two  thousand  and  eighty- three  excerpts  from  this  writer, 
one  sixth  of  the  whole  Digest.  No  legal  writer,  ancient 
or  modern,  has  handled  so  many  subjects.  In  perspic 
uity,  he  is  said  to  be  inferior  to  Ulpian,  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  jurists,  who  was  his  contemporary.  He  has 
exercised  a  great  influence  on  modern  jurisprudence  from 
the  copious  extracts  of  his  writings  in  Justinian's  Digest. 
He  was  the  chief  adviser  of  Alexander  Severus,  and  like 
Paulus  was  prcefectus  prcetorio.  The  number  of  excerpts  in 
the  Digest  from  him,  is  said  to  be  two  thousand  four  hun 
dred  and  sixty-two,  and  they  form  a  third  part  of  it.  Some 
fragments  of  his  writings  remain.  The  last  of  the  great 
civilians  associated  with  Gains,  Papinian,  Paulus,  and  Ul 
pian,  as  oracles  of  jurisprudence,  was  Modestinus,  who  was 
a  pupil  of  Ulpian.  He  wrote  both  in  Greek  and  Latin. 
There  are  three  hundred  and  forty-five  excerpts  in  the 
Digest  from  his  writings,  the  titles  of  which  show  the  ex 
tent  and  variety  of  his  labors.1 

These  great  lawyers  shed    great  glory   on  the   Roman 

1  These  facts  are  drawn  from  the  different  articles  of  George  Long,  in  Smith's 
Dictionary. 


230  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

civilization.  In  the  earliest  times  men  sought  distinction 
on  the  fields  of  battle,  but  in  the  latter  days  of  the  republic 
honor  was  conferred  for  forensic  ability.  The  first  pleaders 
of  Rome  were  not  jurisconsults,  but  aristocratic  patrons 
Theprofes-  wno  l°°kecl  after  their  clients.  But  when  law 
sionofiaw.  |)ecaine  complicated,  a  class  of  men  arose  to  in 
terpret  it,  and  these  men  were  held  in  great  honor,  and 
reached,  by  their  services,  the  highest  offices — like  Cicero 
and  Hortensius.  No  remuneration  was  given  originally 
for  forensic  pleading,  beyond  the  services  which  the  client 
gave  to  a  patron,  but  gradually  the  practice  of  the  law  be 
came  lucrative.  Hortensius,  as  well  as  Cicero,  gained  an 
immense  fortune.  He  had  several  villas,  a  gallery  of 
paintings,  a  large  stock  of  wines,  parks,  fish-ponds,  and 
aviaries.  Cicero  had  villas  in  all  parts  of  Italy  ;  a  house  on 
the  Palatine  with  columns  of  Numidian  marble,  and  a  for 
tune  of  twenty  millions  of  sesterces,  equal  to  $800,000. 
Most  of  the  great  statesmen  of  Rome,  in  the  time  of 
Cicero,  were  either  lawyers  or  generals.  Crassus,  Pom- 
pey,  P.  Sextus,  M.  Marcellus,  P.  Clodius,  Calidius,  Mes- 
sala  Niger,  Asinius  Pollio,  C.  Cicero,  M.  Antonius,  Caesar, 
Calvus,  CaBlius,  Brutus,  Catulus,  Messala  Cervirus,  were 
all  celebrated  for  their  forensic  efforts.  Candidates  for  the 
bar  studied  four  years  under  a  distinguished  jurist,  and 
were  required  to  pass  a  rigorous  examination.  The  judges 
were  chosen  from  members  of  the  bar,  as  well  as,  in  later 
times,  the  senators.  The  great  lawyers  were  not  only 
learned  in  the  law,  but  possessed  great  accomplishments. 
Varro  was  a  lawyer,  and  was  the  most  learned  man  that 
Rome  produced.  But,  under  the  emperors,  the  lawyers 
were  chiefly  distinguished  for  their  legal  attainments,  like 
Paulus  and  Ulpian. 

During  this  golden  age  of  Roman  jurisprudence,  many 
commentaries  were  written  on  the  Twelve  Tables,  the 
Perpetual  Edict,  the  Laws  of  the  People,  and  the  Decrees 
of  the  Senate,  as  well  as  a  vast  mass  of  treatises  on  every 


CHAP.  VI.]  Justinian   Code.  231 

department  of  the  law,  most  of  which  have  perished.  The 
Institutes  of  Gains,  which  have  reached  us  nearly  in  their 
original  form,  are  the  most  valuable  which  remain,  and 
have  thrown  great  light  on  some  important  branches  pre 
viously  involved  in  obscurity.  Their  use  in  explaining 
the  Institutes  of  Justinian,  is  spoken  of  very  highly  by 
Mackenzie,  since  the  latter  are  mainly  founded  on  the  long 
lost  work  of  Gains.  A  treatise  of  Ulpian,  preserved  in  the 
Vatican,  entitled  u  Tituli  ex  corpore  Ulpiani"  also  contains 
valuable  information,  as  well  as  the  "  Receptce  Sententice  " 
of  Julius  Paulus,  his  great  contemporary,  both  of  which 
works,  as  well  as  others  of  inferior  importance,  were  lately 
published  at  Rome  by  Dr.  Gneist,  called  "Corpus  Juris 
Romani  Antejustinianii"  1  The  great  lawyers  who  flour 
ished  from  Trajan  to  Alexander  Severus,  like  Roman 
Gains,  Ulpian,  Paulus,  Papinian,  and  Modestinus,  Junsts- 
had  no  successors  who  can  be  compared  with  them,  and  their 
works  became  standard  authorities  in  the  courts  of  law. 

After  the  death  of  Alexander  Severus  no  great  accession 
was  made  to  Roman  law,  until  Theodosius  II.  caused  the 
constitutions,  from  Constantine  to  his  own  time,  to  be  col 
lected  and  arranged  in  sixteen  books.  This  was  called  the 
Theodosian  Code,  which  in  the  West  was  held  in  high  es 
teem,  although  superseded  shortly  after  in  the  East  by  the 
Justinian  Code. 

To  Justinian  belongs  the  immortal  glory  of  reforming 
the    jurisprudence  of   the    Romans.       "  In    the  Ju8tinian 
space  of  ten  centuries,"  says  Gibbon,  "  the  infin-   labors- 
ite  variety  of  laws  and  legal  opinions  had  filled  many  thou 
sand   volumes,   which  no  fortune  could  purchase,   and  no 
capacity  could  digest.     Books   could  not  easily  be  found 
and  the  judges,  poor  in  the  midst  of  riches,   were  reduced 
to    the   exercise  of   their   illiterate  discretion." 2     Justin 
ian  determined  to  unite  in  one  body  all  the  rules  of  law, 
whatever  may  have  been   their  origin,   and   in    the-  year 

1  Mackenzie,  p.  16.  2  Gibbon,  ch.  44. 


232  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

528,  appointed  ten  jurisconsults,  among  whom  was  the 
celebrated  Tribonian,  to  select  and  arrange  the  imperial 
constitutions,  leaving  out  what  was  obsolete  or  useless  or 
contradictory,  and  to  make  such  alterations  as  the  circum 
stances  required.  This  was  called  the  Code,  divided  into 
twelve  books,  and  comprising  the  constitutions  from  Ha 
drian  to  Justinian.  This  was  published  in  fourteen  months 
after  it  was  undertaken. 

Justinian  authorized  Tribonian,  then  quaestor,  "  vir  mag- 
nificus  magisteria  dignitate   inter  agentes    decor- 

Tribomian.  J       „    .       y  .  .     y  .     y  „ 

atus,  for  great  titles  were  now  given  to  the  om- 
cers  of  the  crown,  to  prepare,  with  the  assistance  of  seven 
teen  associates,  a  collection  of  extracts  from  the  writings 
of  the  most  eminent  jurists,  so  as  to  form  a  body  of  law 
for  the  government  of  the  empire,  with  power  to  select  and 
omit  and  alter  ;  and  this  immense  work  was  done  in  three 
years,  and  published  under  the  title  of  Digest  or  Pandects. 
"  All  the  judicial  learning  of  former  times,"  says  Lord 
Mackenzie,  ;4  was  laid  under  contribution  by  Tribonian  and 
his  colleagues.  Selections  from  the  works  of  thirty-nine 

tt  »' 

of  the  ablest  lawyers,  scattered  over  two  thousand  separate 
treatises,  were  collected  in  one  volume  ;  and  care  was 
taken  to  inform  posterity  that  three  millions  of  lines  were 
abridged  and  reduced,  in  these  extracts,  to  the  modest 
number  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  Among  the 
selected  jurists,  only  three  names  belonged  to  the  age  of 
the  republic ;  the  civilians  who  flourished  under  the  first 
emperors  are  seldom  appealed  to ;  so  that  most  of  the 
writers,  whose  works  have  contributed  to  the  Pandects, 
lived  within  a  period  of  one  hundred  years.  More  than  a 
The  code  of  third  of  the  whole  Pandects  is  from  Ulpian,  and 
Pandects.  next  to  him,  the  principal  writers  are  Paulus, 
Papinian,  Salvius  Julianus,  Pomponius,  Q.  Cervidius  Scae- 
vola,  and  Gains.  Though  the  variety  of  subjects  is  im 
mense,  the  Digest  has  no  claims  to  scientific  arrangement. 
It  is  a  vast  cyclopedia  of  heterogeneous  law  badly  ar- 


CHAP  VI.]  Legacy  of  Justinian.  233 

ranged ;  every  thing  is  there,  but  every  thing  is  not  in  its 
proper  place."  l 

But  neither  the  Digest  nor  the  Code  was  adapted  to  ele 
mentary  instruction.     It  was  necessary  to  pre-  Thelnsti. 
pare  a  treatise  on  the  principles  of  Roman  law.   * 
This  was  entrusted  to  Tribonian,  and  two  professors,  The- 
ophilus    and   Dorotheus.      It  is   probable    that   Tribonian 
merely  superintended  the  work,  which  was  founded  chiefly 
on  the  Institutes  of  Gaius,  and  was  divided  into  four  books, 
and  has  been  universally  admired  for  its  method  and  ele 
gant  precision.     It  was  intended  merely  as  an  introduction 
to  the  Pandects  and  the  Code. 

The  Novels  of  Justinian  were  subsequently  published, 
being  the  new  ordinances  of  the  emperor,   and  TheNoveis 
the  changes  he  thought  proper  to  make,  and  are  ° 
therefore  a  high  authority. 

The  Code,  Pandects,  Institutes,  and  Novels  of  Justinian, 
comprise  the  Roman  law,  as  received  in  Europe,  in  the 
form  given  by  the  school  of  Bologna,  and  is  called  the 
"  Corpus  Juris  Civilis"  "  It  was  in  that  form,"  says  Sa- 
vigny,  "  that  the  Roman  law  became  the  common  law  of 
Europe ;  and  when,  four  centuries  later,  other  sources  came 
to  be  added  to  it,  the  Corpus  Juris  of  the  school  of  Bologna 
had  been  so  universally  received,  and  so  long  established  as 
a  basis  of  practice,  that  the  new  discoveries  remained  in 
the  domain  of  science,  and  served  only  for  the  theory  of 
the  law.  For  the  same  reason,  the  Anti-Justinian  law  is 
excluded  from  practice."  2  After  Justinian,  the  old  texts 
were  left  to  moulder  as  useless  though  venerable,  and  they 
have  nearly  all  disappeared.  The  Code,  the  Pandects,  and 
the  Institutes,  were  declared  to  be  the  only  legitimate  au 
thority  and  alone  were  admitted  to  the  tribunals  or  taught 
in  the  schools.  The  rescripts  of  the  early  emperors  recog 
nized  too  many  popular  rights  to  suit  the  despotic  character 
of  Justinian,  and  the  older  jurists,  like  the  Scssvolas,  Sul- 

l  Mackenzie,  p.  25.  2  Savigny,  Droit  Romani,  vol.  i.  p.  68. 


Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP,  vi 

picius,  and   Labeo,  were  distasteful  from  their  sympathy 
with  free  institutions.     Different  opinions  have  been  ex 
pressed  by  the  jurisconsults  as  to  the  merits  of  the  Justinian 
collection.     By  some  it  is  regarded  as  a  vast  mass  of  legal 
lumber;    by  others,  as  a  beautiful    monument  of  human 
labor.     After  the  lapse  of  so  many  centuries,  it  is  certain 
that  a  large  portion  of  it  is  of  no  practical  utility,  since  it 
is  not  applicable   to   modern   wants.     But  again,  no  one 
doubts  that  it  has  exercised  a  great  and  good  influence  on 
moral  and  political  science,  and  introduced  many  enlio-ht- 
ened  views  concerning  the  administration  of  justice,  as  well 
as  the  nature  of  civil  government,  and  thus  has  modified  the 
codes  of  the  Teutonic  nations,  which  sprang  up  on  the  ruins 
of  the  old  Roman  world.     It  was  used  in  the  Greek  empire 
until  the  fall  of  Constantinople.     It  never  entirely  lost  au 
thority  in  Italy,  although  it  remained  buried  till  the  discov 
ery  of  the  Florentine  copy  of  the  Pandects  at  the  sieo-e  of 
Amalfi  in  1135.     Peter  Valence,  in  the  eleventh  cenUiry, 
made  use  of  it  in  a  law-book  which  he  published.  With  the 
rise  of  the  Italian  cities,  the  study  of  Roman  law  revived, 
and  Bologna  became  the  seat  from  which  it   spread  over 
Europe.     In  the  sixteenth  century,  the  science  of  theoreti 
cal  law  passed  from  Italy  to  France,  under  the  auspices  of 
Irancis  L,  when  Cujas  or  Cujacius  became  the  great  orna 
ment  of  the  school  of  Bourges,  and  the  greatest  commenta 
tor  on  Roman  law  until  Dumoulin   appeared.     Grotius,  in 
Holland,  excited  the  same  interest  in  civil  law  that  Dumou 
lin  did  in  France,  followed  by  eminent  professors  in  Leyden 
and  the  German  universities.    It  was  reserved  for  Pothier, 
in   the  middle  of  the   eighteenth    century,  to  reduce  the 
Roman  law  to  systematic  order  —  one  of  the  most  gigantic 
tasks  which  ever  taxed  the  industry  of  man.     The  Decent 
discoveries,  especially  that   made   by  Niebuhr,  of  the  long 
lost  work  of  Gains  have  given  a  great  impulse  to  the  study 
of  Roman  law  in  Germany,  and  to  this  impulse  no  one  has 
contributed  so  greatly  as  Savigny  of  Berlin. 


CHAP.  TI.]  La*  of  Penoni-  235 

The  great  importance  of  the  subject  demands  a  more 
minute  notice  of  the  principles  of  the  Roman  law  than 
what  the  limits  of  this  work  should  properly  allow, 
therefore  endeavor  to  abridge  what  has  been  written  by 
the  more  eminent  authorities,  taking  as  a  basis  the  late 
work  of  Lord  Mackenzie  and  the  learned  and  interesting 
essay  of  Professor  Maine. 

The  Institutes  of  Justinian  commenced  with  the  law  o 
persons,  recognizing  the  distinction  of  ranks.    All  ^ 
persons  are  capable  of  enjoying  civil  rights,  but 
not  all  in  the  same  degree.     Greater  privileges  are  allowed 
to  men   than   to  women,  to  freemen  than  to   slaves,   to 
fathers  than  to  children. 

In  the  eye  of  the  law  all  Roman   citizens  were  equal, 
wherever  they  lived,  whether  in  the  capital  or  j^ty  of 
the  provinces.     Citizenship  embraced  both  politi-  ' 
cal  and  civil  rights.     The  political  rights  had  reference  to 
the  rio-ht  of  voting  in   the  comitia,  but  this  was  not  con 
sidered  the  essence  of  citizenship,  which  was  the  enjoyment 
of  the  omnuUum   and  commercium.     By  the  former   the 
citizen  could   contract  a  valid  marriage,  and  acquire  the 
rights  resulting  from  it,  particularly  the  paternal  power ; 
by  the   latter  he  could  acquire  and  dispose  of  property. 
Citizenship  was  acquired  by  birth  and  by  manumiss.on  ;  r 
was  lost  when    a   Roman  became  a  prisoner  of  war,  o; 
had  been  exiled  for  crime,  or  became  a  citizen  of  another 
state.     An  unsullied  reputation  was  necessary  for  a  citizen 
to  exercise  his  rights  to  their  full  extent. 

The  Roman  jurists  acknowledged  all  persons  originally 
free   by  natural  law  ;  and,  while  they  recognized  slavery, 
ascribed  the  power  of  masters  entirely  to  the  law  and  cus 
tom  of  nations.     Persons  taken  in  war  were  considered  at 
the  absolute   control  of  their  captors,  and  were  therefore, 
de  facto,  slaves  ;  and  the  children   of  a   female  ^ 
slave  followed  the  condition  of  their  mother,  and 
belono-ed   to   her   master.      But  masters  could    manumit 


Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP,  vi 

their  slaves,  who  thus  became  Roman  citizens,  with  some 
restriction..  Until  the  time  of  Justinian,  they  were  not 
allowed  to  wear  the  gold  ring,  the  distinguishing  symbol 
of  a  man  born  free.  This  emperor  removed  all  restrictions 
between  freedmen  and  citizens.  Previously,  after  the 
emancipation  of  a  slave,  he  was  bound  to  render  certain 
»rto  his  former  master  as  patron,  and  if  the  freed- 
man  died  intestate  his  property  reverted  to  his  patron 

Marriage  was  contracted  by  the  simple  consent  of  the 
Marriage.       P31'1'08'  tllougn  '«  early  times,  equality  of  condi- 
<?na         ,  t10™  «q»ired.     The  lex   Canuleia,  A.  u.  c. 
.509,  authorized  connubium  between  patricians  and  plebe 
ians    and  the  lex  Julia,  A.  u.  c.   757,  allowed  it  between 
freedmen  and  freeborn.      By  the  conventio  in  manum,  a 
TOfe  passed  out  of  her  family  into  that  of  her  husband,  who 
acquired  all  her  property  ;  without  it,  the  woman  remained 
in  the  power  of  her  father,  and  retained  the  free  disposition 
of  her  property.     Poligamy  was  not  perrnitted  .  and  re| 
t-onslnp  w.thm  certain  degrees  rendered  the  parties  inca- 
pab  e  of  contracting  marriage,  and  these  rules  as  to  for 
bidden  degrees  have  been  substantially  adopted  in  England. 
Cehbacy  was  discouraged.     The  law  of  Augustus  Julia 
et  J>apw  Poppcca  contained  some  seven  regulations  ao-ainst 
it,  winch  were  abolished  by  Constantine.  Concubinage  was 
allowed,  ,f  a  man  had  not  a  wife,  and  provided  the  concu- 
bme  was  not  the  wife  of  another  mar,.     This  heathenish 
custom  was  abrogated  by  Jnstinian.'     The  wife  was  en- 
:  ed  to  protection  and  support  from  her  husband,  and  she 
retained  her  property  independent  of  her  husband,  when 
the  conventio  was  abandoned,  as  it  was  ultimately.     The 
father  gave   his  daughter,  on  her  marriage,  a  dowry  in 
p.-oport.on  to  his  means,  the  management  of  which,  with 
frmts  dunng  marriage,  belonged  to  the  husband  ;  but 
he  could  not  alienate  real  estate  without  the  wife's  consent 
on  the  dissolution  of  marriage  the  dos  reverted  to  the 


1  D.  25.  7.    C.  5,  26. 


CHAP,  vi.]  Paternal  Power.  237 

wife.     Divorce  existed  in  all  ages  at  Rome,  and  was  very 
common  at  the  commencement  of  the  empire.     To  check 
its  prevalence,  laws  were  passed  inflicting  severe  penalties 
on  those  whose  bad  conduct  led  to  it.    Every  man,  whether 
married  or  not,  could  adopt  children,  under  certain  restric 
tions,  and  they  passed  entirely  under  paternal  power.    But 
the  marriao-e  relation  among  the  Romans  did  not  accord 
after  all   with  those  principles  of  justice  which  we  see  in 
other  parts  of  their  legislative  code.    The  Roman  husband, 
like  the  father,  was  a  tyrant.     The  facility  of  divorce  de- 
stroved  mutual  confidence,  and  inflamed  every  trifling  dis 
pute,  for  a  word,  or  a  message,  or  a  letter,  or  the  mandate 
of  a  freedman,  was  quite  sufficient  to  secure  a  separation. 
It  was   not  until  Christianity  became  the  religion  of  the 
empire,  that  divorce  could  not  be  easily  effected  without 

a  just  cause. 

Nothing  is  more  remarkable  in  the  Roman  laws  than  the 
extent  of  paternal  power.     It  was  unjust,  and  paterna, 
bears  the  image  of  a  barbarous  age.     Moreover,  F 
it  seems  to  have  been  coeval  with  the  foundation  of  the 
city      A  father  could  chastise  his  children  by  stripes,  by 
imprisonment,  by  exile,  by  sending  them  to  the  country 
with  chains  on  their  feet.     He  was  even  armed  with  the 
power  of  life  and  death.     "  Neither  age  nor  rank,  nor  the 
consular  office,  could  exempt  the  most  illustrious  citizen 
from  the  bonds  of  filial  subjection.     Without  fear,  though 
not  without  danger  of  abuse,  the  Roman  legislators  had  re 
posed  unbounded  confidence  in  the  sentiments  of  paternal 
love,  and  the  oppression  was  tempered  by  the  assurance  that 
each  o-eneration  must  succeed  in  its  turn  to  the  awful  dig 
nity  rf  parent  and  master."'     By  an  express  law  of  the 
Twelve  Tables  a  father  could  sell  his  children  as  slaves. 
But  the  abuse  of  paternal  power  was  checked  m  the  re 
public  by  the  censors,  and  afterwards  by  emperors.     Alex 
ander  Severus  limited  the  right  of  the  father  to  s.mple 


1  Gibbon,  c.  xliv. 


238  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP,  vi 

correction,  and  Constantine  declared  the  father  who  should 
kill  his  son  to  be  guilty  of  murder.1  The  rigor  of  parents 
in  reference  to  the  disposition  of  the  property  of  children, 
was  also  gradually  relaxed.  Under  Augustus,  the  son  could 
keep  absolute  possession  of  what  he  had  acquired  in  war. 
Under  Constantine,  he  could  retain  any  property  acquired 
in  the  civil  service,  and  all  property  inherited  from  the 
mother  could  also  be  retained.  In  later  times,  a  father 
could  not  give  his  son  or  daughter  to  another  by  adoption 
without  their  consent.  Thus  this  patria  potestas  was  grad 
ually  relaxed  as  civilization  advanced,  though  it  remained 
a  peculiarity  of  Roman  law  to  the  latest  times,  and  severer 
than  is  ever  seen  in  the  modern  world.2  No  one  but  a 
Roman  citizen  could  exercise  this  awful  paternal  power, 
nor  did  it  cease  until  the  father  died,  or  the  daughter  had 
entered  into  marriage  with  the  conventio  in  manum.  Ille 
gitimate  children  were  treated  as  if  they  had  no  father, 
and  the  mother  was  bound  to  support  them  until  Justinian 
gave  to  natural  children  a  right  to  demand  aliment  from 
their  father.3  Fathers  were  bound  to  maintain  their  chil 
dren  when  they  had  no  separate  means  to  supply  their 
wants,  and  children  were  also  bound  to  maintain  their 
parents  in  want.  These  reciprocal  duties,  creditable  to  the 
Roman  law-givers,  are  recognized  in  the  French  Code,  but 
not  in  the  English,  which  also  recognizes  the  right  of  a 
father  to  bequeath  his  whole  estate  to  strangers,  which  the 
Roman  fathers  had  not  power  to  do.4  The  age  when 
children  attain  majority  among  the  Romans,  was  twenty- 
five  years.  Women  were  condemned  to  the  perpetual 
tutelage  of  parents,  husbands,  or  guardians,  as  it  was  sup 
posed  they  never  could  attain  to  the  age  of  reason  and  ex 
perience.  The  relation  of  guardian  and  ward  was  strictly 
observed  by  the  Romans.  They  made  a  distinction  be 
tween  the  right  to  govern  a  person,  and  the  right  to  man- 

1  Ch.  iv.  17.  2  Maine,  Ancient  Law,  p.  143. 

*  N.  89,  ch.  xii.  4  Lord  Mackenzie,  p.  142. 


CHAP,  vi.]  Laws  of  Real  Rights. 

acre  his  estate,  although   the  tutor  could  do  both.     If  the 
pupil  was  an  infant,  the  tutor  could  act  without  the  inter 
vention  of  the  pupil ;  if  the  pupil  was  above  seven  years 
of  age,  he  was  considered  to  have  an  imperfect  will, 
tutor  managed   the  estate  of  the  pupil,  but  was  liable  for 
loss  occasioned  by  bad  management.     He  could  sell  mova 
ble  property  when  expedient,  but  not  real  estate,  without 
judicial   authority.     The   tutor  named  by  the  father  was 
preferred  to  all  others. 

The  Institutes  of  Justinian  pass  from  persons  to  things, 
or  the  law  relating  to  real  rights  ;  in  other  words,  R€alrightg 
that  which  pertains  to  property.     Some  things, 
common  to  all,  like  air,  light,  the  ocean,  and  things  sacred, 
like   temples  and  churches,  are  not  classed   as  property. 
Originally,  the  Romans  divided  things  into  res  mancipi,  and 
res  nee  mancipi.     The  former  comprehended  houses,  lands, 
slaves,  and   beasts  of  burden,  and   could  only  be   acquired 
bv  certain  solemn  forms,  which,  if  not  observed,  the  prop 
erty  was  not  legally  transferred.     The  latter  included  all 
other  things,  and  admitted  of  being  transferred  by  simple 

tradition. 

Occupancy,  one  of  the  original  modes  of  acquiring  prop 
erty,  was  applied  to  goods  and  persons  taken  in   Qccupancy 
war ;   to  things  lost  by  negligence,  or  chance,  or 
thrown   aw  ay  by  necessity;  to  pearls,  shells,  and  precious 
stones  found  on  the  sea-shore  ;  to  wild  animals,  to  fish,  to 
hidden  treasure. 

Acquisition,  by  accession,  pertained  to  the  natural  and 
industrial  fruits  of  the  land,  the  rents  of  houses,  interest  on 
money,  the  increase  of  animals,  lands  gained  from  the  sea, 
and  movables. 

Two  things  were  required  for  the  transfer  of  property, 
for  it  is  the  essence  of  property  that  the  owner  Tran8fer0f 
of  a  thing  should  have  the  right  to  transfer  it,  —  p 
first,  the  consent  of  the  former  owner  to  transfer  the  thing 
upon  some  just  ground;  and  secondly,  the  actual  delivery 


240  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

of  the  thing  to  the  person  who  is  to  acquire  it.  Movables 
were  presumed  to  be  the  property  of  the  possessors,  until 
positive  evidence  was  produced  to  the  contrary.  A  pre 
scriptive  title  to  movables  was  acquired  by  possession  for 
one  year,  and  to  immovables  by  possession  for  two  years. 
Undisturbed  possession  for  thirty  years  constituted  in  gen 
eral  a  valid  title.  When  a  Roman  died,  his  heirs  suc 
ceeded  to  all  his  properly,  by  hereditary  right.  If  he  left 
no  will,  his  estate  devolved  upon  his  relations  in  a  certain 
order  prescribed  by  law.  The  power  of  making  a  testa 
ment  only  belonged  to  citizens  above  puberty.  Children 
under  the  paternal  power  could  not  make  a  will.  Males 
above  fourteen,  and  females  above  twelve,  when  not  under 
power,  could  make  wills  without  the  authority  of  their 
guardian  ;  but  pupils,  lunatics,  prisoners  of  war,  criminals, 
and  various  other  persons,  were  incapable  of  making  a  tes 
tament.  The  testator  could  divide  his  property  among  his 
heirs  in  such  proportions  as  he  saw  fit;  but  if  there  was  no 
distribution,  all  the  heirs  participated  equally.  A  man 
could  disinherit  either  of  his  children  by  declaring  his  in 
tentions  in  his  will,  but  only  for  grave  reasons,  such  as 
grievously  injuring  his  person  or  character  or  feelings,  or 
attempting  his  life.  No  will  was  effectual  unless  one  or 
more  persons  were  appointed  heirs  to  represent  the  de 
ceased.  Wills  \vere  required  to  be  signed  by  the  testator, 
or  some  person  for  him,  in  the  presence  of  seven  witnesses 
who  were  Roman  citizens.  If  a  will  was  made  by  a  parent 
for  distributing  his  property  solely  among  his  children,  no 
witnesses  were  required,  and  the  ordinary  formalities  were 
dispensed  with  among  soldiers  in  actual  service,  and  during 
the  prevalence  of  pestilence.  The  testament  was  opened  in 
the  presence  of  the  witnesses,  or  a  majority  of  them ;  and 
after  they  had  acknowledged  their  seals,  a  copy  was  made, 
and  the  original  was  deposited  in  the  public  archives.  Ac- 
Testaments  cording;  to  the  Twelve  Tables,  the  powers  of  a 

andlega-  .«••»"»"•  i- 

ciea.  testator  in  disposing  of  his  property  were  unhm- 


CHAP,  vi.]  Laws  of  Succession.  241 

ited,  but  in  process  of  time  laws  were  enacted  to  restrain 
immoderate  or  unnatural  bequests.     By  the  Falcidian  law, 
in  the   time  of  Augustus,  no  one  could  leave  in  legacies 
more  than  three  fourths  of  his  estate,  so  that  the  heirs  could 
inherit  at  least  one  fourth.     Again  a  law  was  passed,  by 
which   the  descendants  were   entitled  to  one  third  of  the 
succession,  and  to  one  half  if  there  were  more  than  four. 
In  France  if  a  man  die  leaving  one  lawful  child,  he  can 
only  dispose  of  half  of  his  estate  by  will ;  if  he  leaves  two 
children,  the  third ;  if  he  leaves  three  or  more,  the  fourth.1 
In  England  a  man  can  cut  off  both  his  wife  and  children.2 
The  Romans  recognized  bequests  in  trust,  besides  testa 
ments,  by  which  property  descended   directly  to  the  heir. 
The  person  charged  with  a  trust  was  bound  to  restore  the 
subject  at  the  time  appointed  by  the  testator.     The  trustee 
could  not  alienate  an  estate  without  the  consent  of  all  the 
parties  interested,  except  for  the  payment  of  debts.     All 
persons  capable  of  making  a  will  could  leave  legacies,  real 
or  personal,  but  these  were  not  due  if  the  testator  died  in 
solvent.     When  a  man  died  intestate,  the  sue-  Laws0f 
cession  devolved  on   the  descendants  of  the  de 
ceased ;  but,   these    failing,   the   nearest  ascendants  were 
called  ;    if  there   were  brothers  and  sisters,  they  were  en 
titled  to  succeed  together  along  with  the  ascendants  in  the 
same  class.    Children  succeeded  to  property,  if  their  father 
died  intestate,  in  equal  portions,  without  distinction  of  sex, 
and  if  there  was  only  one  child  he  took  the  whole  estate. 
A  descendant  of  either  sex,  or  any  degree,  was  preferred  to 
all  ascendants  and  collaterals.     The  descendants  of  a  son 
or  daughter,  who  had  predeceased,  took  the  same  share  of 
the  succession  that  their  parent  would  have  done  had  he 
been  alive.     In  England,  if  all  the  children  are  dead,  and 
only  grandchildren  exist,  they  all  take,  not  by  families,  but 
per  capita,  equal  shares  in  their  own  right  as  next  of  kin, 
and  Mackenzie  thinks  this  arrangement  is  more  equitable 

i  Code  Civil,  Art.  913.  a  Williams,  Exec.,  p.  3. 

16 


242  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

than  the  Roman.1  If  there  were  no  descendants,  the  Ro 
man  father  and  mother,  and  other  ascendants,  excluded  all 
collaterals  from  the  succession  except  brothers  and  sisters 
of  the  whole  blood,  and  the  children  of  deceased  brothers 
and  sisters.  When  ascendants  stood  alone,  the  father  and 
mother  succeeded  in  equal  portions,  and  if  only  one  sur 
vived,  he  or  she  succeeded  to  the  whole,  so  that  grandpa 
rents  were  excluded.  If  there  were  brothers  and  sisters  of 
the  whole  blood,  the  estate  was  divided  among  them  in  cap 
ita,  according  to  the  number  of  persons,  including  the  father 
and  mother.  The  children  of  a  deceased  brother  were  not 
admitted  to  the  succession  along  with  ascendants  and  sur 
viving  brothers  and  sisters.2  If  a  person  died  leaving 
neither  ascendants  nor  descendants,  his  brothers  and  sisters 
The  laws  iu  succeeded  to  his  estate  in  equal  shares.  And  if 
inheritance.  tjie  Restate  left  also  nephews  and  nieces  by  a 
deceased  brother  or  sister,  these  succeeded,  along  with 
their  uncles  and  aunts,  to  the  share  their  parent  would 
have  taken.  On  the  failure  of  brothers  and  sisters  by  the 
whole  blood,  the  brother  and  sisters  by  the  half  blood  suc 
ceeded,  and  if  any  of  these  brothers  and  sisters  have  died 
leaving  children,  the  right  of  representation  was  extended 
to  them  also,  just  as  in  the  case  of  children  of  broth  ers-ger- 
man.  When  husband  or  wife  died,  without  leaving  rela 
tions,  the  survivor  was  called  to  the  succession.  A  widow 
who  was  poor  and  unprovided  for  had  a  right  to  share  in 
the  succession  of  her  deceased  husband.  When  he  left 
more  than  three  descendants,  she  was  entitled  to  partici 
pate  with  them  equally.  If  there  were  only  three  or 
fewer,  she  was  entitled  to  one  fourth  of  the  estate.  If 
she  had  children  by  the  deceased,  she  had  only  the  usu 
fruct  of  her  portion  during  her  life,  and  was  bound  to  pre 
serve  it  for  them.  If  a  man  had  no  legitimate  children,  he 
could  leave  his  whole  inheritance  to  his  natural  children, 
or  to  their  mother ;  but  if  he  had  lawful  children,  he  could 

l  Mackenzie,  p.  288.  2  Ibid.  290. 


CHAP.  VL]  Contracts  and  Loans.  243 

leave  only  one  twelfth  to  the  natural  children  and  their 
mother.  If  the  father  died  intestate,  without  leaving  a 
lawful  wife  or  issue,  his  natural  children  and  their  mother 
were  entitled  to  one  sixth  of  the  succession,  and  the  rest 
was  divided  among  the  lawful  heirs. 

In  the  matter  of  contracts,  the  Roman  law  was  especially 

comprehensive,  and  the  laws  of  France  and  Scot- 
Contracts. 

land  are  substantially  based  upon  the  Roman 
system.  The  Institutes  of  Gaius  and  Justinian  distinguish 
four  sorts  of  obligation,  —  aut  re,  aut  verbis,  aut  literis,  aut 
consenser.  Gibbon,  in  his  learned  chapter,  prefers  to  con 
sider  the  specific  obligations  of  men  to  each  other  under 
promises,  benefits,  and  injuries.  Lord  Mackenzie  treats 
the  subject  in  the  order  of  the  Institutes. 

'•Obligations  contracted  re  —  by  the  intervention  of 
things  —  are  called  by  the  moderns  real  contracts,  because 
they  are  not  perfected  till  something  has  passed  from  one 
party  to  another.  Of  this  description  are  the  contracts  of 
loan,  deposit,  and  pledge.  Till  the  subject  is  actually  lent, 
deposited,  or  pledged,  it  does  not  form  the  special  contract 
of  loan,  deposit,  or  pledge."  l 

In  regard  to  loans,  the  borrower  was  obliged  to  take 
care  of  it  as  if  it  were  his  own.  In  rebus  com- 

Loans. 

modatis  talis  diligentia  prcestanda  est,  qualem 
quisque  diligentissimus  paterfamilias  suis  rebus  adhibet.2  He 
could  only  use  a  thing  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was 
lent ;  he  could  not  keep  it  beyond  the  time  agreed  upon, 
nor  detain  it  as  a  set-off  against  any  debt.  He  was  bound 
to  restore  the  article  in  the  same  condition  as  received, 
subject  only  to  the  deterioration  arising  from  reasonable 
use,  whether  a  horse,  a  house,  or  a  carriage.  And  he  was 
required  to  make  good  all  injuries  caused  by  his  own  fault 
or  negligence.  If  the  article  perished,  without  any  blame 
or  neglect,  the  loss  fell  on  the  owner.  If  the  loan  was  for 
consumption,  which  was  called  mutuum,  like  corn,  or  oil, 
l  Mackenzie.  2  D.  13,  6, 1  pr. 


Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  vi. 

or  wine,  the  borrower  was  required  to  return  as  much   of 
the  same  kind  and  quality,  whether  the  price  of  the  com 
modity  had  risen  or  fallen.     In  a  loan   of  money,  under 
mutuum,  the  borrower  was  not  required  to  pay  interest. 
Interest  was  only  due  ex  lege,  or  by  agreement.     The  rate 
varied  at  different  times  ;  generally,  it  was  eight  and  one 
third  per  cent,  and  even  more  than  this  in  the  latter  years 
of  the  republic,     Justinian  introduced  a  scale  which  varied 
with   different  classes   of  society.      Persons   of  illustrious 
rank  could  lend  money  at  four  per  cent,  ordinary  people 
at  six,  and  for  maritime  risks  twelve  ;  but  it  was  unlawful 
to  charge  interest  upon  interest*     Property  would  double, 
at  eight  and  one  third,  in  twelve  years,  not 'so  rapidly  as  by 
our  system  of  compound  interest,  especially  at  the  rate  of 
seven   per  cent.     In  England   the  usury  laws  of  different 
monarchs  limited  interest  from  ten   per  cent,  to  five  •  but 
these  were  repealed  in  1854.    Only  five  per  cent,  can  now 
be  recovered  upon  any  contract. 

A  deposit  differed  from  a  loan  in  this,  — that  the  deposi 
tary  was  not  entitled  to  any  use  of  a  thing  de 
posited,  and  was  bound  to  preserve  it  witlf  rea-  Dep°8it8' 
sonable  care,  and  restore  it  on  demand.    As  he  derived  no 
advantage,  he  was  entitled  to  be  reimbursed  for  all  neces 
sary  charges.     Ship-masters,  innkeepers,  and  stablers,  were 
responsible  for  the  luggage  and  effects  of  travellers  intrusted 
to  their  care,  which  policy  is  now  adopted  in  both  Europe 
and  America,  on  the  ground  that  if  they  were  not  held 
strictly  to  their  charge,  being  not  a  very  reputable  class  of 
men  in  ancient  times,  they  might  be  in  league  with  thieves 
An  innkeeper  was  therefore  held  responsible  for  Joss,  or 
damage,  or  theft,  to  secure  the  protection  of  travellers,  whose 
patronage  was  a  compensation.     In  case  of  robbery,  when 
goods  were  taken  by  superior  force,  he  was  not  responsible, 
nor  was  he  for  loss  occasioned  by  inevitable  accident. 
At  Rome,  pledges  were   customary,   as  a  security  for 

1  C.  4,  32,  26,  §  1. 


CHAP.  VI.]       Contracts  and  Written   Obligations.  245 

money  due,  on  condition  of  their  restoration  after  the  pay 
ment  of  a  debt.  Real  property,  like  houses  piHdgesand 
and  lands,  as  well  as  movables,  were  the  subject  secunties- 
of  pledge.1  The  creditor  was  bound  to  bestow  ordinary 
care  and  diligence  in  the  preservation  of  the  subject,  but 
he  could  not  use  it,  or  take  the  profits  of  it,  without  a 
special  contract.  By  the  pactum  antichresis,  the  creditor 
was  allowed  to  take  the  profits  in  lieu  of  the  interest  on  his 
debt ;  by  the  lex  commissoria,  the  thing  pledged  became 
the  absolute  property  of  the  creditor  if  the  debt  was  not 
paid  at  the  time  agreed  on.  But  as  this  condition  was 
found  to  be  a  source  of  oppression,  it  was  prohibited  by  a 
law  of  Constantine.2  When  the  debt,  interest,  and  all 
necessary  expenses  were  paid,  the  debtor  was  entitled  to 
have  his  pledge  restored  to  him.  After  the  time  of  pay 
ment  was  passed,  the  creditor  had  a  right  to  sell  the  pledge, 
and  retain  his  debt  out  of  the  produce  of  the  sale  ;  if  there 
was  a  deficiency,  the  balance  could  be  recovered  by  an 
action  ;  if  there  was  a  surplus,  the  debtor  was  entitled  to 
it.  The  Roman  pledge  was  of  the  nature  of  the  modern 
business  of  pawnbroking  and  of  a  mortgage. 

Next  to  the  perfection  of  contracts  by  the  intervention 
of  things  re,  were  obligations  contracted  by  ver-  Verbai  con- 
bis  —  solemn  words  —  and  by  literis  or  writing.   tracts' 
The  verborum  obligatio  was  contracted  by  uttering  certain 
formal  words  of  style,  an  interrogation   being  put  by  one 
party  and  an   answer  given  by  the  other.     These  stipula 
tions  were  binding.     In  England  all  guarantees  must  be  in 
writing. 

The  obligatio  literis  was  a  written  acknowledgment  of 
debt  chiefly  employed  when  money  was  borrowed,   Written  ob_ 
but   the  creditor  could  not  sue   upon   the   note  h^atlons- 
within  two  years  from  its  date,  without  being  called  upon 
also  to  prove  that  the  money  was  in  fact  paid  to  the  debtor. 

Contracts  perfected  by  consent  —  consenses  —  had  refer- 

l  D.  20,  1.  2  c.  7,  35. 


246  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

ence  to  sale,  hiring,  partnership,  and  mandate.  All  con 
tracts  of  sale  were  good  without  writing.  When  an 
article  was  sold  and  delivered,  the  market  price, 
as  fixed  by  custom,  determined  the  price,  if  nothing  had 
been  said  about  it.  The  seller  was  bound  to  warrant  that 
the  thing  sold  was  free  from  defects,  and  when  the  subject 
did  not  answer  this  implied  warranty,  the  sale  might  be  set 
aside.  But  the  seller  could  stipulate  that  he  should  not  be 
held  to  warrant  against  defects.  Property  was  not  trans 
ferred  without  actual  delivery.  When  the  sale  was  com 
pleted,  all  the  risks  of  the  thing  sold  passed  to  the  pur 
chaser.  In  the  case  of  commodities  sold  by  weight, 
number,  or  measure,  the  contract  was  not  completed  until 
the  goods  were  weighed,  counted,  or  measured,  which 
sometimes  caused  considerable  difficulty.  After  delivery, 
the  seller  was  bound  to  warrant  the  title  to  the  buyer,  and 
to  indemnify  him  for  any  loss.3 

In  regard  to  hiring,  all  sorts  of  things,  which  were  the 
subject  of  commerce,  may  be  let  for  hire.  Leases 
of  land  and  houses  come  under  this  head.  They 
were  generally  given  for  five  years,  and  unless  there  was 
an  express  stipulation,  the  lessee  might  sublet  to  another. 
The  lessor  was  required  to  deliver  the  subject  in  a  good 
state  of  repair,  and  maintain  it  in  that  condition,  and  to 
guarantee  its  peaceable  enjoyment ;  the  lessee  was  bound 
to  use  the  subject  well,  to  put  it  to  no  use  except  that  for 
which  it  was  let,  to  preserve  it  in  good  condition,  and  re 
store  it  at  the  end  of  the  term.  He  was  bound  also  to  pay 
the  rent  at  the  stipulated  period,  and  when  two  years'  rent 
were  in  arrear,  the  tenant  could  be  ejected.  The  tenant 
of  a  farm  was  entitled  to  a  remission  of  his  rent  if  his  crop 
was  destroyed  by  an  unforeseen  accident  or  calamity.  A 
contractor  who  agreed  to  undertake  a  piece  of  work  was 
required  to  finish  it  in  a  proper  manner,  and  if  from  negli 
gence  or  ignorance  the  work  was  defective,  he  was  liable  to 
1  D.  22,  2.  C.  8,  45. 


CHAP,  vi.]  Agents  and  Partners.  247 

damages.     In    a   partnership,   if   there    were   no   express 
agreement,    the   shares   of  profit   and    loss   were   divided 
equally.      Eacli  partner  was  bound    to  exercise   Agent8and 
the  same  care  for  the  joint  concern  as  if  it  were  * 
his  own.     The  acts  of  one  partner  were  not  binding  on  an 
other,  if  he  acted  beyond  the  scope  of  the  partnership.     If 
one  of  the  partners  advanced  money  on  account  of  the  part 
nership,  each  of  the  partners  were  bound  to  contribute  to 
the  indemnity  in  proportion  to  his  share  of  the  concern  ; 
and  if  any  of  them  became  insolvent,  the  solvent  share 
holders  were  obliged  to  make  up  the  deficiency.1    An  agent 
could  be  employed  to  transact  business  for  another,  but 
was  required  to  act  strictly  according  to  his  orders,  and  the 
mandant,  who  gave  the  orders,  was  bound  to  ratify  what 
was  done  by  the   mandatary,  and  to  reimburse  him  for  all 
advances  and  expenses  incurred  in  executing  the  commis 
sion.     By  the  Roman  law  agents  were  not  remunerated. 
Donations  could  not  be  made  beyond  a  certain  maximum. 
Justinian  ordered  that  when  gifts  exceeded  five  hundred 
solidi,  a  formal  act  stating  the  particulars  of  the  donation 
should  be  inscribed  in  a  public  register. 

When  a  person  spontaneously  assumed  the  management 
of  the  affairs  of  another  in  his  absence,  and  without  any 
mandate,  this  was  called  negotiorum  gestio,  and  the  person 
was  bound  to  perform  any  act  which  he  had  begun,  as  if 
he  held  a  proper  mandate,  and  strictly  account  for  his  man 
agement,  while  the  principal  was  bound  to  indemnify  him 
for  all  advances  and  expenses. 

When  money  was  paid  through  error  it  could  be  recov 
ered,  under  certain  circumstances.  But  this  point  is  a 
matter  concerning  which  the  jurists  differ. 

Acts  which  caused  damage  to  another  obliged  the  wrong 
doer  to  make  reparation,  and  this  responsibility  extended 
to  damages  arising  not  only  from  positive  acts,  but  from 
negligence  or  imprudence.     In  an  action  of  libel  or  slan- 
i  D.  17, 2, 67. 


248  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  vi. 

der,  the  truth  of  the  allegation  might  be  pleaded  in  justifi 
cation.1  In  all  cases  it  was  necessary  to  show 
that  an  injury  had  been  committed  maliciously. 
But  if  damage  arose  in  the  exercise  of  a  right,  as  killing  a 
slave  in  self-defense,  no  claim  for  reparation  could 
be  maintained.  If  any  one  exercised  a  profes 
sion  or  trade  for  which  he  was  not  qualified,  he  was  liable 
to  all  the  damage  his  want  of  skill  or  knowledge  might 
occasion.  When  any  damage  was  done  by  a  slave  or  an 
animal,  the  owner  of  the  same  was  liable  for  the  loss, 
though  the  mischief  was  done  without  his  knowledge  and 
against  his  will.  If  any  thing  was  thrown  from  a  window 
of  a  house  near  the  public  thoroughfare,  so  as  to  injure  any 
one  by  the  fall,  the  occupier  was  bound  to  repair  the  dam 
age,  though  done  by  a  stranger.  Claims  arising  under  obli 
gations  might  be  transferred  to  a  third  person,  by  sale, 
exchange,  or  donation  ;  but  to  prevent  speculators  from  pur 
chasing  debts  at  low  prices,  it  was  ordered  that  the  assignee 
should  not  be  entitled  to  exact  from  the  debtor  more  than 
he  himself  had  paid  to  acquire  the  debt  with  interest,  —  a 
wise  and  just  regulation  which  it  would  be  well  for  us  to 
copy.  In  regard  to  the  extinction  of  obligations  the  cred 
itor  is  not  bound  to  accept  of  payments  by  instalments,  or 
any  thing  short  of  proper  payment  at  the  time  and  place 
agreed  upon.  When  several  debts  were  due,  the  debtor, 
in  making  payment,  could  appropriate  it  to  any  one  he 
pleased.2  When  performance  became  impossible,  without 
any  fault  of  the  debtor,  such  as  when  the  specific  subject 
had  perished  by  unavoidable  accident,  the  obligation  was 
extinguished  ;  but  if  the  impossibility  was  caused  by  the 
fault  of  the  debtor,  he  was  still  liable.  This  was  a  great 
modification  of  the  severity  of  the  ancient  code,  when  a 
debtor  could  be  sold  into  slavery  for  his  debt.  As  certain 
contracts  are  formed  by  consent  alone,  so  they  could  be 
extinguished  by  the  mutual  consent  of  the  contracting  par- 

i  D.  47,  10,18.  2  D.  46,  3,1. 


CHAP,  vi.]  Roman  Judges.  249 

ties,  without  performance  on  either  side.  In  some  cases 
the  mere  lapse  of  time  extinguished  an  obligation,  as  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  modern  system  of  outlawry. 

The   next  great   department   of  Roman  jurisprudence 
pertained  to  actions  and  procedure.     The  state  ^of 
conferred  on  a  magistrate  or  judge  jurisdiction  to  a 
determine  questions    according  to  law.     Civil  jurisdiction 
pertains  to  questions  of  private  right ;  criminal  jurisdiction 
takes  cognizance  of  crimes.     When  jurisdiction  was  con 
ferred  on  a  Roman  magistrate,  he  acquired  all  the  powers 
necessary  to  exercise  it.     The  imperium  merum  gave  the 
power  to  inflict  punishment ;  the  imperium  mixtum  was  the 
power  to  carry  civil  decrees  into  execution.     A  real  action 
was  directed   against  a  person   in  the  territory  where  the 
subject  in  dispute  was  located. 

By  the  ancient  constitution,  the  king  had  the  preroga 
tive  of  determining  civil  causes.  The  right  then  devolved 
on  the  consuls,  afterwards  on  the  praetor,  and  in  certain 
cases  on  the  curule  and  plebeian  ediles,  who  were  charged 
with  the  internal  police  of  the  city. 

The  praetor,  a  magistrate  next  in  dignity  to  the  consuls, 
acted  as  supreme  judge  of  the  civil  courts,  as-   Theprjetor8 
sisted  by  a  council  of  jurisconsults  to  determine 
questions  in  law.     At  first  one  praetor  was  sufficient,  but 
as  the  limits  of  the  city  and  empire  extended,  he  was  joined 
by  a  colleague.     After  the  conquest  of  Sicily,  Sardinia,  and 
the  two  Spains,  new  praetors  were  appointed  to  administer 
justice  in  the  provinces.     The  praetor  held  his  court  in  the 
comitium,  wore  a  robe  bordered  with  purple,  sat  in  a  cu 
rule  chair,  and  was  attended  by  lictors. 

The  praetor  delegated  his  power  to  judges,  called  Judex, 
Arbiter,  and  Recuperatores.    When  parties  were   otju* 
at  issue  about  facts,  it  was  the  custom  for  the  prse-  J1 
tor  to  fix  the  question  of  law  upon  which  the  action  turned, 
and  then  to  remit   to  a  delegate  to  inquire  into  the  facts 
and  pronounce  judgment  according  to  them.     In  the  time 


250  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

of  Augustus  there  were  four  thousand  judices,  who  were 
merely  private  citizens,  generally  senators  or  men  of  con 
sideration.  The  judex  was  invested  by  the  magistrate 
with  a  judicial  commission  for  a  single  case  only.  After 
being  sworn  to  duty,  he  received  from  the  praetor  a  formula 
containing  a  summary  of  all  the  points  under  litigation,  from 
which  he  was  not  allowed  to  depart.  He  was  required 
not  merely  to  investigate  facts,  but  to  give  sentence.  And 
as  law  questions  were  more  or  less  mixed  up  with  the  case, 
he  was  allowed  to  consult  one  or  more  jurisconsults.  If 
the  case  was  beyond  his  power  to  decide,  he  could  decline 
to  give  judgment.  The  arbiter,  like  the  judex,  received  a 
formula  from  the  praetor,  and  seemed  to  have  more  exten 
sive  power.  The  recuperatores  heard  and  determined 
cases,  but  the  number  appointed  for  each  case  was  usually 
three  or  five. 

The  centumvirs  constituted  a  permanent  tribunal  com- 
Thecen-  posed  of  members  annually  elected,  in  equal  num- 
tumvirs.  foers,  from  each  tribe,  and  this  tribunal  was  pre 
sided  over  by  the  praetor,  and  divided  into  four  chambers, 
which,  under  the  republic,  was  placed  under  the  ancient 
quaestors.  The  centumvirs  decided  questions  of  property, 
embracing  a  wide  range  of  subjects.1  The  Romans  had  no 
class  of  men  like  the  judges  of  modern  times.  The  supe 
rior  magistrates  were  changed  annually,  and  political  duties 
were  mixed  with  judicial.  The  evil  was  partially  remedied 
by  the  institution  of  legal  assessors,  selected  from  the  most 
learned  jurisconsults.  Under  the  empire,  the  praetors  were 
greatly  increased.  Under  Tiberius,  there  were  sixteen 
who  administered  justice,  beside  the  consuls,  six  ediles,  and 
ten  tribunes  of  the  people.  The  emperor  himself  became 
the  supreme  judge,  and  he  was  assisted  in  the  discharge  of 
his  judicial  duties  by  a  council  composed  of  the  consuls,  a 
magistrate  of  each  grade,  and  fifteen  senators.  The  prae 
torian  prefects,  although,  at  first,  their  duties  were  purely 

l  Cicero  de  Orat.,  I  38. 


CHAP.  VT.]  Condition  of  Debtors.  251 

military,  finally  discharged  important  judicial  functions. 
The  prefect  of 'the  city,  in  the  time  of  the  emperors,  was 
a  great  judicial  personage,  who  heard  appeals  from  the 
praetors  themselves. 

In  all  cases  brought  before  the  courts,  the  burden  of 
proof  was    with    the  party  asserting    an    affirmative  fact. 
Proof  by  writing  was  generally  considered  most   witneggeg 
certain/ but    proof  by    witnesses    was  also    ad 
mitted.     Pupils,  lunatics,  infamous  persons,  interested  par 
ties,  near  relations,  and  slaves,  could  not  bear  evidence,  or 
any  person  who  had  a  strong  enmity  against  the  party. 
The    witnesses  were   required  to  give  their  testimony  on 
oath.    Two  witnesses  were  enough  to  prove  a  fact,  in  most 
instances.     When  witnesses  gave  conflicting  testimony,  the 
judo-e  regarded  those  who  were  worthy  of  credit  rather 
than  numbers.     In  the  English  courts,  the  custom  used  to 
be  as  with  the  Romans,  of  refusing  testimony  from  those 
who  were  interested,  but  this  has  been  removed.     On  the 
failure  of  regular  proof,  the  Roman  law  allowed  a  party  to 
refer  the  facts  in  a  civil  action  to  the  oath  of  his  adver 
sary.  . 

Under  the  empire  every  judgment  was  reduced  to  writ 
ing  and  signed   by  the  judge,   and  then  entered  upon  a 
register.1    *  After  the   sentence,   the  debtor  was  Conditionof 
allowed  thirty  days  for  the  payment  of  his  debt, 
after  which  he  was  assigned  over  to  the  creditor  and  kept 
in  chains  for  sixty  days,  during  which  he  was  publicly  ex 
posed  for  three  market  days,  and  if  no  one  released  him  by 
paying  the  debt,  he   could  be  sold  as  a   slave.     Justinian 
extended  the  period  to  four  months  for  the  payment  of  a 
judgment  debt,  after  which,  if  the  debt  was  not  paid,  the 
debtor  could  be  imprisoned,  but  not,  as  formerly,  in   the 
creditor's  house.     At  first  the  goods  of  the  debtor  were 
sold  in  favor  of  any  one  who  offered  to  pay  the  largest  dm. 
dend,  but  in  process  of  time,  the  goods  of  the  debtor  were 

i  C.  vii.  45, 12. 


252  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

sold  in  detail,  and  all  creditors  were  paid  a  ratable  divi 
dend.  In  no  respect  are  modern  codes  superior  to  the 
Roman,  so  much  as  in  reference  to  imprisonment  for  debt. 
In  the  United  States  it  has  practically  ceased,  and  in  Eng 
land  no  one  can  be  imprisoned  for  a  debt  under  <£20, 
and  in  France  under  X8. 

Under  the  Roman  republic,  there  was  no  appeal  in  civil 
suits,  but  under  the  emperors  a  regular  system 
was  established.  Under  Augustus,  there  was  an 
appeal  from  all  the  magistrates  to  the  prefect  of  the  city, 
and  from  him  to  the  praetorian  prefect  or  emperor.  In  the 
provinces  there  was  an  appeal  from  the  municipal  magis 
trates  to  the  governors,  and  from  them  to  the  emperor. 
Under  Justinian,  no  appeal  was  allowed  from  a  suit  which 
did  not  involve  at  least  twenty  pounds  in  gold. 

In  regard  to  criminal  courts,  among  the  Romans,  dur- 
Cnminai  mS  ^ie  republic,  the  only  body  which  had  ab- 
courts.  solute  power  of  life  and  death  was  the  comitia 
centuriata.  The  Senate  had  no  jurisdiction  in  criminal 
cases,  so  far  as  Roman  citizens  were  concerned.  It  was 
only  in  extraordinary  emergencies  that  the  Senate,  with  the 
consuls,  assumed  the  responsibility  of  inflicting  summary 
punishment.  Under  the  emperors,  the  Senate  was  armed 
with  the  power  of  criminal  jurisdiction.  And  as  the  Sen 
ate  was  the  tool  of  the  imperator,  he  could  crush  whomso 
ever  he  pleased. 

As  it  was  inconvenient,  when  Rome  had  become  a  very 
great  city,  to  convene  the  comitia  for  the  trial  of  offenders, 
the  expedient  was  adopted  of  delegating  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  people  to  persons  invested  with  temporary  authority, 
called  qucesitores.  These  were  established  at  length  into 
regular  and  permanent  courts,  called  qucestiones  perpetuce. 
Every  case  submitted  to  these  courts  was  tried  by  a  judge 
and  jury.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  judge  to  preside  and 
regulate  proceedings  according  to  law ;  and  it  was  the  duty 
of  the  jury,  after  hearing  the  evidence  and  pleadings,  to 


CHAP,  vi.]  Crimes.  —  Treason.  253 

decide  upon  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the  accused.  As 
many  as  fifty  persons  frequently  composed  the  jury,  whose 
names  were  drawn  out  of  an  urn.  Each  party  had  a  right 
to  challenge  a  certain  number,  and  the  verdict  was  decided 
by  a  majority  of  votes.  At  first  the  judices  were  chosen 
from  the  Senate,  and  afterwards  from  the  Equestrians,  and 
then  again  from  both  orders.  But  in  process  of  time  the 
qucestiones  perpetuce  gave  place  to  imperial  magistrates. 
The  accused  defended  himself  in  person  or  by  counsel. 

The   Romans  divided   crimes   into  public    and    private. 
Private  crimes  could  only  be  prosecuted  by  the 
party  injured,   and  were  generally  punished  by 
pecuniary  fines,  as  among  the  old  Germanic  nations. 

Of  public  crimes,  the  crimen  lessee  majestatis,  or  trea 
son,  was  regarded  as  the  greatest,  and  this  was 
punished  with  death,  and  with  confiscation  of 
goods,1  while  the  memory  of  the  offender  was  declared 
infamous.  Greater  severity  could  scarcely  be  visited  on  a 
culprit.  Treason  comprehended  conspiracy  against  the 
government,  assisting  the  enemies  of  Rome,  and  miscon 
duct  in  the  command  of  armies.  Thus  Manlius,  in  spite 
of  his  magnificent  services,  was  hurled  from  the  Tarpeian 
Rock,  because  he  was  convicted  of  an  intention  to  seize 
upon  the  government.  Under  the  empire,  not  only  any 
attempt  on  the  life  of  the  emperor  was  treason,  but  disre 
spectful  words  or  acts.  The  criminal  was  even  tried  after 
death,2  that  his  memory  might  become  infamous,  and  this 
barbarous  practice  existed  even  in  France  and  Scotland,  as 
late  as  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century.  In  Eng 
land,  men  have  been  executed  for  treasonable  words.  Be 
side  treason  there  were  other  crimes  against  the  state,  such 
as  a  breach  of  the  peace,  extortion  on  the  part  of  provincial 
governors,  embezzlement  of  public  property,  stealing  sacred 
things,  bribery,  most  of  which  offenses  were  punished  by 
pecuniary  penalties. 

1  I-  4, 18,  3.  a  c.  9,  8,  6. 


254  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI 

But  there  were  also  crimes  against  individuals  which 
Capital  pun-  were  punished  with  the  death  penalty.  Willful 
fahments.  murder,  poisoning,  parricide,  were  capitally  pun 
ished.  Adultery  was  punished  by  banishment,  beside  a 
forfeiture  of  considerable  property.1  Constantino  made  it 
a  capital  offense.  The  Romans  made  adultery  to  consist 
in  sexual  intercourse  with  another  man's  wife,  but  not  with 
a  woman  who  was  not  married,  even  if  he  were  married. 
Rape  was  punished  with  death2  and  confiscation  of  goods, 
as  in  England  till  a  late  period,  when  transportation  for 
life  became  the  penalty.  The  punishments  inflicted  for 
forgery,  coining  base  money,  and  perjury,  were  arbitrary. 
Robbery,  theft,  patrimonial  damage,  and  injury  to  person 
and  property,  were  private  trespasses,  and  not  punished  by 
the  state.  After  a  lapse  of  twenty  years,  without  accusa 
tion,  crimes  were  supposed  to  be  extinguished.  The  Cor 
nelian,  Pompeian,  and  Julian  laws  formed  the  foundation 
of  criminal  jurisprudence,  which  never  attained  the  per 
fection  that  was  seen  in  the  Civil  Code.  It  was  in  this  that 
the  full  maturity  of  wisdom  was  seen.  The  emperors 
greatly  increased  the  severity  of  punishments,  as  probably 
necessary  in  a  corrupt  state  of  society.  After  the  decem- 
criminaiiaw  viral  laws  fell  into  disuse,  the  Romans,  in  the 

gradually 

ameliorated,    days  of  the  republic,  passed  from  extreme  rigor 
to  great  lenity,  as  is  observable  in  the   transition  from  the 
Puritan  regime  to  our  times  in  the  United  States.     Capi 
tal  punishment  for  several  centuries  was  exceedingly  rare, 
and  this  was  prevented  by  voluntary  exile.     Under  the 
empire,  public  executions  were  frequent  and  revolting. 
Fines  were   a  common    mode  of  punishment  with  the 
Romans,  as  with  the  early  Germans.     Imprison 
ment  in  a  public  jail  was  also  rare,  the  custom  of 
bail  being  in  general  use.    Although  retaliation  was  author 
ized  by  the  Twelve  Tables  for  bodily  injuries,  it  was  seldom 
exacted,  since  pecuniary  compensation  was  taken  in  lieu. 

1  D.  48,  5.  2  c.  9,  13. 


CUAF.VL]  Capital  Punishment.  255 

Corporal  punishments  were  inflicted  upon  slaves,  but  rarely 
upon  citizens,  except  for  military  crimes.     But  Roman  citi 
zens  could  be  sold  into  slavery  for  various  offenses,  chiefly 
military,  and  criminals  were  often  condemned  to  labor  in 
the  mines  or  upon  public  works.    Banishment  was  common 
—  aquce  et  ignis  interdictio  —  and  this  was  equiv-      ^ 
alent  to  the  deprivation  of  the  necessities  of  life, 
and  incapacitating  a  person  from  exercising  the  rights  ot 
citizenship.     Under  the  emperors,  persons  were  confined 
often  on  the  rocky  islands  off  the  coast,  or  a  compulsory 
residence  in  a  particular  place  assigned.    Thus  Chrysostom 
was  sent  to  a  dreary  place  on  the  banks  of  the  Euxme. 
Ovid  was  banished  to  Tomi.     Death,  when  inflicted,  was 
by  hano-ino-,  scourging,  and  beheading,  also  by  strangling 
in  prison.      Slaves  were  often   crucified,   and   were  com 
pelled  to  carry  their  cross  to  the  place  of  execution, 
was  the  most  ignominious  and  lingering  of  all  deaths.     It 
was  abolished  by  Constantine  from  reverence  to  the  sacred 
symbol.     Under  the  emperors,  execution  took  place   also 
by  burning  alive  and  exposure  to  wild  beasts.     It  was  thus 
the    early  Christians  were   tormented,  since   their  offense 
was  associated  with  treason.     Persons  of  distinction  were 
treated  with  more  favor  than   the  lower  classes,  and  the 
punishment  was  less  cruel  and  ignominious.    Thus^  Seneca, 
condemned  for  privity  to  treason,  was  allowed  to  choose  his 
mode  of  death.     The  criminal  laws  of  modern  European 
states  followed  too  often  the  barbarous  custom  of  the  em 
perors  until  a  recent  date.     Since  the  French  Revolution, 
the  severity  of  the  penal  codes  has  been  much  modified. 

The  penal  statutes  of  Rome,  as  Gibbon  emphatically  re 
marks,  «  formed  a  very  small  portion  of  the  Code  and  the 
Pandects  ;  and  in  all  judicial  proceedings,  the  life  or  death 
of  the  citizen  was  determined  with  less  caution  and  delay 
than  the  most  ordinary  question  of  covenant  or  inherit- 
ance."  This  was  owing  to  the  complicated  relations  of 
socictv,  by  which  obligations  are  created  or  annulled,  whi 


256  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

duties  to  the  state  are  explicit  and  well  known,  being  in 
scribed  not  only  on  tables  of  brass,  but  on  the  conscience 
itself.  It  was  natural,  with  the  growth  and  development 
of  commerce  and  dominion,  that  questions  would  arise 
which  could  not  be  ordinarily  settled  by  ancient  customs, 
and  the  practice  of  lawyers  and  the  decisions  of  judges 
continually  raised  new  difficulties,  to  be  met  only  by  new 
edicts.  It  is  a  pleasing  fact  to  record  that  jurisprudence 
became  more  just  and  enlightened  as  it  became  more  in- 
tricate.  The  principles  of  equity  were  more  re- 
gai'ded  under  the  emperors  than  in  the  time  of 
property.  Q^Om  It  is  in  the  application  of  these  principles 
that  the  laws  of  the  Romans  have  obtained  so  high  consid 
eration.  Their  abuse  consisted  in  the  expense  of  litigation, 
and  the  advantages  which  the  rich  thus  obtained  over  the 
poor.  But  if  delays  and  forms  led  to  an  expensive  and 
vexatious  administration  of  justice,  these  were  more  than 
compensated  by  the  checks  which  a  complicated  jurispru 
dence  gave  to  hasty  or  partial  decisions.  It  was  in  the 
minuteness  and  precision  of  the  forms  of  law,  and  in  the 
foresight  with  which  questions  were  anticipated  in  the  va 
rious  transactions  of  business,  that  prove  that  the  Romans, 
in  their  civil  and  social  relations,  were  very  much  on  a 
level  with  modern  times.  And  it  would  be  difficult  to  find, 
in  the  most  enlightened  of  modern  codes,  greater  wisdom 
and  foresight  than  what  appear  in  the  legacy  of  Justinian, 
as  to  all  questions  pertaining  to  the  nature,  the  acquisi 
tion,  the  possession,  the  use,  and  the  transfer  of  property. 
Civil  obligations  are  most  admirably  defined,  and  all  con 
tracts  are  determined  by  the  wisest  application  of  the  natu 
ral  principles  of  justice.  What  can  be  more  enlightened 
than  the  laws  which  relate  to  leases,  to  sales,  to  partner 
ships,  to  damages,  to  pledges,  to  hiring  of  work,  and  to 
quasi  contracts  !  How  clear  the  laws  pertaining  to  the 
succession  to  property,  to  the  duties  of  guardians,  to  the 
rights  of  wards,  to  legacies,  to  bequests  in  trust,  and  to 


CHAP,  vi.]  Excellence  of  the   Civil  Law.  257 

the  general  limitation  of  testamentary  powers !     How  wise 
the  regulations  in  reference  to  intestate  succession,  and  to 
the  division   of  property  among  males  and  females.     We 
find   no  laws  of  entail,  no   unequal   rights,  no  absurd  dis 
tinctions  between  brothers,  no  peculiar  privileges  given  to 
males  over  females,  or  to  older  sons.     In  the  Institutes  of 
Justinian,  we  see  on  every  page  a  regard  to  the  principles 
of  natural  justice.     We  discover  that  the  property  of  the 
wife  cannot  be  alienated  nor  mortgaged  by  a  prodigal  hus 
band  ;  that  wards  are  to  be  protected  from  the  cupidity 
of  guardians ;  that  property  could  be  bequeathed  by  will, 
and  that  wills  are  sacred  ;  that  all  promises  are  to  be  ful 
filled  ;  that  he  who  is  intrusted  with  the  property  of  an 
other  is  bound  to  restitution  by  the  most  imperative  obliga 
tions  ;  that  usury  should  be   restrained ;    that  all  injuries 
should  be  repaired  ;  that  cattle  and  slaves  should  be  pro 
tected  from  malice  and  negligence  ;  that  atrocious  cruelties 
in  punishment  should  not  be  inflicted  ;  that  malicious  wit 
nesses  should  be  punished  ;  that  corrupt  judges  should  be 
visited  with  severe  penalties  ;  that  libels  and  satires  should 
subject  their  authors   to  severe   chastisement ;  that  every 
culprit  should  be  considered   innocent  until  his  guilt  was 
proved.     In  short,  every  thing  pertaining  to  property  and 
contracts  and  wills  is  guarded  with  the  most  zealous  care. 
A  man  was  sure  of  possessing  his  own,  and  of  transmitting 
it   to   his   children.     No  infringement   on    personal  rights 
could  be  tolerated.  A  citizen  was  free  to  go  where  Right8of 
he  pleased,  to  do  whatsoever  he  would,  if  he  did  c 
not  trespass  on  the  rights  of  another  ;  to  seek  his  pleasure 
unobstructed,  and  pursue   his   business  without  vexatious 
incumbrances.     If  he  was  injured  or  cheated,  he  was  sure 
of  redress.     Nor  could   he   be  easily  defrauded  with  the 
sanction  of  the  laws.     A  rigorous  police  guarded  his  per 
son,  his  house,  and  his  property.     He  was  supreme  and 
uncontrolled  within  his  family.     And  this  security  to  prop 
erty  and  life  and  personal  rights  was  guaranteed  by  the 

17 


258  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

greatest  tyrants.  The  fullest  personal  liberty  was  enjoyed 
under  the  emperors,  and  it  was  under  their  sanction  that 
jurisprudence,  in  some  of  the  most  important  departments 
of  life,  reached  perfection.  If  injustice  was  suffered,  it 
was  not  on  account  of  the  laws,  but  the  depravity  of  men, 
the  venality  of  the  rich,  and  the  tricks  of  lawyers.  But 
the  laws  were  wise  and  equal.  The  civil  jurisprudence 
could  be  copied  with  safety  by  the  most  enlightened  of 
European  states.  And,  indeed,  it  is  the  foundation  of  their 
civil  codes,  especially  in  France  and  Germany. 

That  there  were  some  features  in  the  Roman  laws 
which  we,  in  these  Christian  times,  cannot  indorse,  and 
which  we  reprehend,  cannot  be  denied.  Under  the  re- 
Abuse  of  public,  there  was  not  sufficient  limit  to  paternal 

paternal  . 

power.  power,  and  the  paterfamilias  was  necessarily  a 
tyrant.  It  was  unjust  that  the  father  should  control  the 
property  of  his  son,  and  cruel  that  he  was  allowed  such 
absolute  control,  not  only  over  his  children,  but  his  wife. 
But  the  limits  of  paternal  power  were  more  and  more  cur 
tailed,  so  that  under  the  latter  emperors,  fathers  were  not 
allowed  to  have  more  authority  than  was  perhaps  expe 
dient. 

The  recognition  of  slavery  as  a  domestic  institution  was 
Evils  of  another  blot,  and  slaves  could  be  treated  with 
slavery.  j.])e  grossest  cruelty  and  injustice  without  redress. 
But  here  the  Romans  were  not  sinners  beyond  all  other 
nations,  and  our  modern  times  have  witnessed  a  parallel. 

It  was  not  the  existence  of  slavery  which  was  the  great 
est  evil,  but  the  facility  by  which  slaves  could  be  made. 
The  laws  pertaining  to  debt  were  severe,  and  it  was  most 
disgraceful  to  doom  a  debtor  to  the  absolute  power  of  a 
creditor.  To  subject  men  of  the  same  blood  to  slavery 
for  trifling  debts,  which  they  could  not  discharge,  was  the 
great  defect  of  the  Roman  laws.  But  even  these  cruel 
regulations  were  modified,  so  that  in  the  corrupt  times  of 
the  empire,  there  was  no  greater  practical  severity  than 


CHAP,  vi.]  Defects  of  the  Roman  Law.  259 

what  was  common  in  England  one  hundred  years  ago. 
The  temptations  to  fraud  were  enormous  in  a  wicked  state 
of  society,  and  demanded  a  severe  remedy.  It  is  possible 
that  future  ages  may  see  too  great  leniency  shown  to  debt 
ors,  who  are  not  merely  unfortunate  but  dishonest,  in  these 
our  times ;  and  the  problem  is  not  yet  solved,  whether 
men  should  be  severely  handled  who  are  guilty  of  reckless 
and  unprincipled  speculations  and  unscrupulous  dealings, 
or  whether  they  should  be  allowed  immunity  to  prosecute 
their  dangerous  and  disgraceful  courses. 

The  facility  of  divorce  was  another  stigma  on  the  Roman 
laws,  and  the  degradation  of  woman  was  the  Evilg  of 
principal  consequence.  But  woman  never  was  divorce- 
honored  in  any  pagan  land.  Her  condition  at  Rome  was 
better  th?n  it  was  at  Athens.  She  always  was  regarded  as 
a  possession  rather  than  as  a  free  person.  Her  virtue  was 
mistrusted,  and  her  aspirations  were  scorned.  She  was 
hampered  and  guarded  more  like  a  slave  than  the  equal 
companion  of  man.  But  the  whole  progress  of  legislation 
was  in  her  favor,  and  she  continued  to  gain  new  privileges 
to  the  fall  of  the  empire. 

Moreover,  the  penal  code  of  the  Romans,  in  reference 
to  breaches  of  trust,  or  carelessness,  or  ignorance,  ^tnty  of 
by  which  property  was  lost  or  squandered,  may  Penallaw- 
have  been  too  severe,  as  is  the  case  in  England  in  refer 
ence  to  hunting  game  on  another's  grounds.  It  was  hard 
to  doom  a  man  to  death  who  drove  away  his  neighbor's 
cattle,  or  entered  in  the  night  his  neighbor's  house.  But 
severe  penalties  alone  will  keep  men  from  crimes  where 
there  is  a  low  state  of  virtue  and  religion,  and  society  be 
comes  impossible  when  there  is  no  efficient  protection  to 
property.  If  sheep  can  be  killed  by  dogs,  if  orchards  can 
be  stripped  of  their  fruit,  and  jewelry  be  appropriated  by 
servants  with  impunity,  a  great  stimulus  to  honest  industry 
is  taken  away,  and  men  will  be  forced  to  seek  more  distant 
homes  where  they  can  reap  the  fruits  of  toil,  or  will  give 


260  Roman  Jurisprudence.  [CHAP.  VI. 

up  in  despair.  Society  was  never  more  secure  and  happy 
in  England  than  when  vagabonds  could  be  arrested,  and 
certainty  of  when  petty  larcenies  were  visited  with  certain 
punishment.  retribution.  Every  traveler  in  France  and 
England  feels  that  in  regard  to  the  punishment  of  crime, 
those  old  countries,  restricted  as  are  political  privileges, 
are  vastly  superior  to  our  own.  The  Romans  lost,  under 
the  emperors,  their  political  rights  ;  but  they  gained  protec 
tion  and  safety  in  their  relations  with  society.  And  where 
quiet  and  industrious  citizens  feel  safe  in  their  homes,  and 
are  protected  in  their  dealings  from  scoundrels,  and  have 
ample  scope  for  industrial  enterprise,  and  are  free  to  choose 
their  private  pleasures,  they  resign  themselves  to  the  loss 
of  electing  their  rulers  without  great  unhappiness.  There 
are  greater  evils  in  the  world  than  the  deprivation  of  the 
elective  franchise,  great  and  glorious  as  is  this  privilege. 
The  arbitrary  rule  of  the  emperors  was  fatal  to  political 
aspirations  and  rights,  but  the  evils  of  political  slavery  were 
qualified  and  set  off  by  the  excellence  of  the  civil  code, 
and  the  privileges  of  social  freedorti. 

The  great  practical  evil  connected  with  Roman  juris- 
intricacy  prudence  was  the  intricacy  and  perplexity  and 
SntynoTthe  uncertainty  of  the  laws,  together  with  the  ex 
pense  involved  in  litigation.  The  class  of  law 
yers  was  large,  and  their  gains  were  extortionate.  Justice 
was  not  always  to  be  found  on  the  side  of  right.  The  law 
was  uncertain  as  well  as  costly.  The  most  learned  coun 
sel  could  only  be  employed  by  the  rich,  and  even  judges 
were  venal.  So  that  the  poor  did  not  easily  find  adequate 
redress,  and  the  good  became  an  evil.  But  all  this  is  the 
necessary  attendant  on  a  factitious  state  of  society.  Mate 
rial  civilization  will  lead  to  an  undue  estimate  of  money. 
And  when  money  purchases  all  that  artificial  people  desire, 
then  all  classes  will  prostitute  themselves  for  its  possession, 
and  justice,  dignity,  and  elevation  of  sentiment  are  forced 
to  retreat,  as  hermits  sought  a  solitude,  when  society  had 


CHAP,  vi.]  Authorities.  261 

reached  its  lowest  degradation,  out  of  pure  despair  of  its 
renovation. 

The  authorities  for  this  chapter  are  very  numerous.  Since  the  In 
stitutes  of  Gaius  have  been  recovered,  very  many  eminent  writers  on 
Roman  law  have  appeared,  especially  in  Germany  and  France.  Among 
those  who  could  be  cited,  are  Beaufort,  Histoire  de  la  Re.publique  Ro- 
maine  ;  Colquhoun,  Summary  of  the  Roman  Civil  Law  ;  De  Fresquet, 
Traite  Elementaire  de  Droit  Remain;  Ducaurroy  (A.  M.  Professor  of 
Roman  Law  at  Paris),  Les  Institutes  de  Justinien  nouvellement  ex- 
pliquees;  Gneist  (Dr.  Reed),  Institutionum  et  Regularum  Juris 
Romani;  Halifax  (Dr.  Samuel),  Analysis  of  the  Roman  Civil  Law; 
Heineccius  (Jo.  Gott),  Elementa  Juris  Civilis  Secundum  Ordinem 
Institutionum;  Laboulaye,  Essai  sur  les  Lois  Criminelles  des  Remains; 
Long's  Articles  on  Roman  Law  in  Dr.  Smith's  Dictionary  ;  Maine's 
Ancient  Law;  Gaius,  Institutionum  Commentarii  Quatuor;  Marezole 
(Theodore,  Professor  at  Leipsic),  Lebruch  der  Institutionem  des  Ro- 
mischen  Rechts;  Maynz  (Charles,  Professor  of  Law  at  Brussels),  Ele 
ments  du  Droit  Remain ;  Ortolan  (M.,  Professor  at  Paris),  Explication 
Historique  des  Institutes  de  1'Empereur  Justinien ;  Phillimore,  Intro 
duction  to  the  Study  and  History  of  Roman  Law  ;  Pothier,  Pandectse 
Justinian*  in  Novum  Ordinem  Digests  ;  Savigny,  Geschichte  des  Rom. 
Rechts ;  Walter,  Histoire  de  la  Procedure  Civile  Chez  Remains. 

I  have  found  the  late  work  of  Lord  Mackenzie,  on  Roman  Law, 
together  with  the  articles  of  George  Long,  in  Smith's  Dictionary,  the 
most  useful  in  compiling  this  notice  of  Roman  jurisprudence.  Mr. 
Maine's  Treatise  on  Roman  Law  is  exceedingly  interesting  and  valua 
ble.  Gibbon's  famous  chapter  should  also  be  read  by  every  student. 
There  is  a  fine  translation  of  the  Institutes  of  Justinian,  which  is  quite 
accessible,  by  Dr.  Harris  of  Oxford.  The  Code,  Pandects,  Institutes, 
and  Novels,  are,  of  course,  the  original  authority,  with  the  long-lost 
Institutes  of  Gaius. 

In  connection  with  the  study  of  the  Roman  law,  it  would  be  well  to 
read  Sir  George  Bowyer's  Commentaries  on  the  Modern  Civil  Law ; 
Irving,  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the  Civil  Law ;  Lindley,  Intro 
duction  to  the  Study  of  Jurisprudence ;  and  Wheaton's  Elements  of 
International  Law  ;  Yattel,  Le  Droit  des  Gens. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ROMAN    LITERATURE. 

IF  the  ancient  civilization  rivaled  the  modern  in  the 
realm  of  art,  it  was  equally  remarkable  in  the  field  of  let 
ters.  It  is  not  my  object  to  show  that  it  was  equal,  or 
superior,  or  inferior  to  modern  literature,  either  in  original 
genius  or  artistic  excellence.  That  point  would  be  diffi 
cult  to  settle,  and  unprofitable  to  discuss.  There  is  no 
doubt  as  to  the  superior  advantage  which  the  modern  world 
derives  in  consequence  of  the  invention  of  printing,  and 
the  consequent  diffusion  of  knowledge.  But  the  question 
is  in  reference  to  the  height  which  was  attained  by  the  an 
cient  pagan  intellect,  unaided  by  Christianity.  I  simply 
wish  to  show  that  the  ancients  were  distinguished  in  all 
departments  of  literature,  and  that  some  of  the  master 
pieces  of  genius  were  created  by  them. 

Nor  is  it  my  object  to  wrrite  a  summary  of  the  literature 
of  antiquity.  It  would  be  as  dull  as  a  catalogue,  or  a  dic 
tionary,  or  a  compendium  of  universal  history  for  the  use 
of  schools  in  a  single  volume.  And  it  would  be  as  profit 
less.  My  aim  is  simply  to  show  that  the  old  civilization 
can  boast  of  its  glories  in  literature,  as  well  as  in  art,  and 
that  the  mind  of  man  never  more  nobly  asserted  its  power 
than  in  Greece  and  Rome.  Our  present  civilization  de 
lights  in  those  philosophers,  poets,  and  historians,  who 
caught  their  inspiration  from  the  great  pagan  models  which 
have  survived  the  wreck  of  material  greatness.  The  hu 
man  intellect  achieved  some  of  its  greatest  feats  before 
Christianity  was  born.  The  inborn  dignity  of  the  mind 
and  soul  was  never  more  nobly  asserted  than  by  Plato  and 


CHAP.  VIL]      Romans  borrow  from  the  Greeks.  263 

Aristotle,  by  Thucydides  and  Tacitus,  by  Homer  and  Vir 
gil,  by  Demosthenes  and  Cicero.  In  attestation,  therefore, 
of  the  glory  of  the  ancient  civilization,  in  the  realm  of  lit 
erature,  it  is  quite  sufficient  for  our  purpose  to  point  out 
some  of  those  great  lights  which,  after  the  lapse  of  two 
thousand  years  or  more,  still  continue  to  shine,  and  which 
are  objects  of  hopeless  imitation,  even  as  they  are  of  uni 
versal  admiration.  If  we  can  show  that  the  great  heights 
were  reached,  even  by  a  few,  we  prove  the  extent  of  civil 
ization.  If  genius  can  soar,  under  Pagan,  as  well  as  un 
der  Christian  influences,  it  would  appear  that  civilization, 
in  an  intellectual  point  of  view,  may  be  the  work  of  man, 
unaided  by  inspiration.  It  is  the  triumph  of  the  native 
intellect  of  man  which  I  wish  to  show. 

Although  it  is  my  chief  aim  to  present  the  magnificent 
civilization  of  the  Roman   empire  under  the  em-  Romans  bor- 

1  .  row  from  the 

perors,  I  must  cite  the  examples  of  Grecian  as  Greeks. 
well  as  Roman  genius,  since  Greece  became  a  part  of  that 
grand  empire,  and  since  Grecian iand  Roman  culture  is 
mixed  up  and  blended  together.  Roman  youth  were 
trained  in  the  Grecian  schools.  Young  men  were  sent  to 
Athens  and  Rhodes  after  they  had  finished  their  education 
in  the  capital.  Athens  continued  to  be,  for  several  hun 
dred  years  after  her  political  glory  had  passed  away,  the 
great  university  city  of  the  world.  Educated  Romans 
were  as  familiar  with  the  Greek  classics  as  they  were  with 
those  of  their  own  country,  and  could  talk  Greek  as  mod 
ern  Germans  can  talk  French.  The  poems  which  kindled 
the  enthusiasm  of  Roman  youth  are  as  worthy  of  notice  as 
the  statues  which  the  conquerors  brought  from  the  Ionian 
cities,  to  ornament  their  palaces  and  baths.  They  equally 
attest  the  richness  of  the  old  civilization.  And  as  it  is  the 
triumph  of  the  pagan  intellect  which  I  wish  to  show,  it 
matters  but  little  whether  we  draw  our  illustrations  from 
Greece  or  Rome.  Without  the  aid  of  Greece,  Rome  could 
never  have  reached  the  height  she  attained. 


264  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vil. 

Now  how  rich  in  poetry  was  classical  antiquity,  whether 
Richness  of    sung  in   the  Greek  or  Latin  languages.     In  all 

Greek  ,  v   .  ,  .    ,  *?.  .        , 

poetry.  those  qualities  winch  give  immortality,  it  has 
never  been  surpassed,  whether  in  simplicity,  in  passion,  in 
fervor,  in  fidelity  to  nature,  in  wit,  or  in  imagination.  It 
existed  from  the  early  ages,  and  continued  to  within  a 
brief  period  of  the  fall  of  the  empire.  With  the  rich  ac 
cumulation  of  ages,  the  Romans  were  familiar.  They 
knew  nothing  indeed  of  the  solitary  grandeur  of  the  Jew 
ish  muse,  or  the  mythological  myths  of  the  Ante- Homeric 
songsters  ;  but  they  possessed  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey, 
with  their  wonderful  truthfulness,  and  clear  portraiture  of 
character,  their  absence  of  all  affectation,  their  serenity 
and  cheerfulness,  their  good  sense  and  healthful  sentiments, 
yet  so  original  that  the  germ  of  almost  every  character 
which  has  since  figured  in  epic  poetry  can  be  found  in 
them.  We  see  in  Homer  l  a  poet  of  the  first  class,  hold- 
The  Homeric  nig  tne  same  place  in  literature  that  Plato  does 
poems.  jn  philosophy,  or  Newton  in  science,  and  exercis 
ing  a  mighty  influence  on  all  the  ages  which  have  suc 
ceeded  him.  For  nearly  three  thousand  years  his  immor 
tal  creations  have  been  the  delight  and  the  inspiration  of 
men  of  genius,  and  they  are  as  marvelous  to  us  as  they 
were  to  the  Athenians,  since  they  are  exponents  of  the 
learning,  as  well  as  of  the  consecrated  sentiments  of  the 
heroic  ages.  We  see  no  pomp  of  words,  no  far-fetched 
thoughts,  no  theatrical  turgidity,  no  ambitious  speculations, 
no  indefinite  longings  ;  but  we  read  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  primitive  nations,  and  lessons  of  moral 
wisdom  and  human  nature  as  it  is,  and  the  sights  and 
wonders  of  the  external  world,  all  narrated  with  singu 
lar  simplicity,  yet  marvelous  artistic  skill.  We  find  ac 
curacy,  delicacy,  naturalness,  yet  grandeur,  sentiment, 
and  beauty,  such  as  Pheidias  represented  in  his  statues  of 

1  Born  probably  at  Smyrna,  an  Ionian  city,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
after  the  Trojan  War. 


UNI 

&  CM 


CHAP,  vil.]  Greek  Lyrical  Poetry. 

Jupiter.  No  poems  have  ever  been  more  popular,  and 
none  have  extorted  greater  admiration  from  critics.  Like 
Shakespeare,  Homer  is  a  kind  of  Bible  to  both  the  learned 
and  unlearned  among  all  people  and  ages  —  one  of  the 
prodigies  of  this  world.  His  poerns  form  the  basis  of 
Greek  literature,  and  are  the  best  understood  and  the 
most  widely  popular  of  all  Grecian  composition.  The 
unconscious  simplicity  of  the  Homeric  narrative,  its  vivid 
pictures,  its  graphic  details  and  religious  spirit,  create 
an  enthusiasm  such  as  few  works  of  genius  can  claim. 
Moreover,  it  presents  a  painting  of  society,  with  its  sim 
plicity  and  ferocity,  its  good  and  evil  passions,  its  compas 
sion  and  its  fierceness,  such  as  no  other  poem  affords.1  Nor 
is  it  necessary  to  speak  of  any  other  Grecian  epic,  when 
the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  attest  the  perfection  which  was 
attained  one  hundred  and  twenty  years  before  Hesiod  was 
born.  Grote  thinks  that  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey  were 
produced  at  some  period  between  850  B.  c.,  and  776  B.  c. 

In  lyrical  poetry  the  Greeks  were  no  less  remarkable, 
and  indeed  they  attained  to  absolute  perfection,  owing  to 
the  intimate  connection  between  poetry  and  music.  Who 
has  surpassed  Pindar  in  artistic  skill  ?  His  tri- 

Pindar. 

umphal  odes  are  pagans,  in  which  piety  breaks 
out  in  expressions  of  the  deepest  awe,  and  the  most  ele 
vated  sentiments  of  moral  wisdom.  They  alone  of  all  his 
writings  have  descended  to  us,  but  all  possess  fragments  of 
odes,  songs,  dirges,  and  panegyrics,  which  show  the  great 
excellence  to  which  he  attained.  He  was  so  celebrated 
that  he  was  employed  by  the  different  states  and  princes 
of  Greece  to  compose  choral  songs  for  special  occasions,  es 
pecially  the  public  games.  Although  a  Theban,  he  was 

1  The  Homeric  poems  have  been  translated  into  nearly  all  the  European  lan 
guages,  and  several  times  into  English.  The  last  translation  is  by  the  Earl  of 
Derby — a  most  remarkable  work.  Guizot,  Cours  <? Flint.  Mod.,  Lecon  7me; 
Grote,  vol.  ii.  p.  277  ;  Stiulies  in  Homer,  by  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone;  Mure,  Crit 
ical  Hist,  of  Lang,  and  Lit.  of  Greece ;  Muller,  Hist,  of  the  Lit.  of  Ancient  Greece, 
translated  by  Donaldson. 


266  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

held  in  the  highest  estimation  by  the  Athenians,  and  was 
courted  by  kings  and  princes.1  We  possess,  also,  fragments 
of  Sappho,  Simonides,  Anacreon,  and  others,  enough  to 
show  that,  could  the  lyrical  poetry  of  Greece  be  recovered, 
we  should  probably  possess  the  richest  collection  that  the 
world  has  produced. 

But  dramatic  poetry  was  still  more  varied  and  remarka- 

Greekdra-      ble.     Even  the  great  masterpieces  of  Sophocles 

matic  i  T^     •  - 1  j  j   i 

poetry.          and  Euripides,  were  regarded  by  contemporaries 

as  inferior  to  many  tragedies  utterly  unknown  to  us.     The 
great  creator  of  the  Greek  drama  was  ^Eschylus, 

JEschylus.  rt\-  T  i 

born  at  Jldeusis,  52o  B.  c.  It  was  not  till  the 
age  of  forty-one  that  he  gained  his  first  prize.  Sixteen 
years  afterwards,  defeated  by  Sophocles,  he  quitted  Athens 
in  disgust,  and  went  to  the  court  of  Hiero,  king  of  Syra 
cuse.  But  he  was  always  held,  even  at  Athens,  in  the 
highest  honor,  and  his  pieces  were  frequently  reproduced 
upon  the  stage.  It  was  not  so  much  his  object  to  amuse 
an  audience,  as  to  instruct  and  elevate  it.  He  combined 
religious  feeling  with  lofty  moral  sentiment.  And  he  had 
unrivaled  power  over  the  realm  of  astonishment  and  ter 
ror.  "  At  his  summons,"  says  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "the 
mysterious  and  tremendous  volume  of  destiny,  in  which  is 
inscribed  the  doom  of  gods  and  men,  seemed  to  display  its 
leaves  of  iron  before  the  appalled  spectators  ;  the  more 
than  mortal  voices  of  Deities,  Titans,  and  departed  heroes, 
were  heard  in  awful  conference  ;  heaven  bowed,  and  its 
divinities  descended  ;  earth  yawned  and  gave  up  the  pale 
spectres  of  the  dead,  and  yet  more  undefined  and  ghastly 
forms  of  those  infernal  deities  who  struck  horror  into  the 
gods  themselves."  His  imagination  dwells  in  the  loftiest 
regions  of  the  old  mythology  of  Greece  ;  his  tone  is  always 
pure  and  moral,  though  stern  and  harsh.  He  appeals  to 
the  most  violent  passions,  and  he  is  full  of  the  boldest 

1  Born  in  Thebes  522  B.  c.,  and  died  probably  in  his  eightieth  year,  and  was 
contemporary  with  .Eschylus  and  the  battle  of  Marathon. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Sophocles.  267 

metaphors.  In  sublimity  he  has  never  been  surpassed. 
He  was  in  poetry,  what  Pheiclias  and  Michael  Angelo  were 
in  art.  The  critics  say  that  his  sublimity  of  diction  is 
sometimes  carried  to  an  extreme,  so  that  his  language  be 
comes  inflated.  His  characters  are  sublime,  like  his  senti 
ments  ;  they  were  gods  and  heroes  of  colossal  magnitude. 
His  religious  views  were  Homeric,  and  he  sought  to  ani 
mate  his  countrymen  to  deeds  of  glory,  as  it  became  one 
of  the  generals  who  fought  at  Marathon  to  do.  He  was  an 
unconscious  genius,  and  worked,  like  Homer,  without  a 
knowledge  of  artistical  laws.  He  was  proud  and  impatient, 
and  his  poetry  was  religious  rather  than  moral.  He  wrote 
seventy  plays,  of  which  only  seven  are  extant ;  but  these 
are  immortal,  among  the  greatest  creations  of  human 
genius,  like  the  dramas  of  Shakespeare.  He  died  in  Sicily 
in  the  sixty-ninth  year  of  his  age.  The  principal  English 
translation  of  his  plays  are  by  Potter,  Harford,  and  Med- 
win.1 

The  fame    of   Sophocles  is  scarcely  less    than  that    of 
^Eschvlus.     He  was  twenty-seven  vears   of  age 

.  J  TT    "  ,  .        Sophocles. 

when  he  appeared  as  a  rival,  rie  was  born  in 
Colonus,  in  the  suburbs  of  Athens,  495  B.  c.,  and  was  the 
contemporary  of  Herodotus,  of  Pericles,  of  Pindar,  of 
Pheidias,  of  Socrates,  of  Cimon,  of  Euripides —  the  era 
of  great  men  ;  the  period  of  the  Peloponnesian  War,  when 
every  thing  that  was  elegant  and  intellectual  culminated  at 
Athens.  Sophocles  had  every  element  of  character  and 
person  which  fascinated  the  Greeks  :  beauty  of  person, 
symmetry  of  form,  skill  in  gymnastics,  calmness  and  dig 
nity  of  manner,  a  cheerful  and  amiable  temper,  a  ready 
wit,  a  meditative  piety,  a  spontaneity  of  genius,  an  affec 
tionate  admiration  for  talent,  and  patriotic  devotion  to  his 
country.  His  tragedies,  by  the  universal  consent  of  the 
best  critics,  are  the  perfection  of  the  Grecian  drama,  and 
they,  moreover,  maintain  that  he  has  no  rival,  Shakespeare 

1  See  Miiller  and  Bode,  histories  of  Greek  Literature. 


268  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vil. 

alone  excepted,  in  the  whole  realm  of  dramatic  poetry,  un 
less  it  be  ^Eschylus  himself,  to  whom  he  bears  the  same 
relation  in  poetry  that  Raphael  does  to  Michael  Angelo  in 
the  world  of  art.  It  was  his  peculiarity  to  excite  emotions 
of  sorrow  and  compassion.  He  loved  to  paint  forlorn  heroes. 
He  was  human  in  all  his  sympathies,  not  so  religious  as 
his  great  rival,  but  as  severely  ethical  ;  not  so  sublime,  but 
more  perfect  in  art.  His  sufferers  are  not  the  victims  of 
an  inexorable  destiny,  but  of  their  own  follies.  Nor  does 
he  even  excite  emotion  apart  from  a  moral  end.  He  lived 
to  be  ninety  years  old,  and  produced  the  most  beautiful  of 
his  tragedies  in  his  eightieth  year,  the  "  CEdipus  at  Co- 
lonus."  He  wrote  the  astonishing  number  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty  plays,  and  carried  off  the  first  prize  twenty-four 
times.  His  "  Antigone  "  was  written  when  he  was  forty- 
five,  and  when  Euripides  had  already  gained  a  prize.  Only 
seven  of  his  tragedies  have  survived,  but  these  are  price 
less  treasures.  The  fertility  of  his  genius  was  only  equaled 
by  his  artistic  skill.1 

Euripides,  the  last  of  the  great  triumvirate  of  the  Greek 
tragic  poets,  was  born  at  Athens,  B.  c.  485.  He 
had  not  the  sublimity  of  JEschylus,  nor  the  touch 
ing  pathos  of  Sophocles,  but,  in  seductive  beauty  and  suc 
cessful  appeal  to  passion,  was  superior  to  both.  Nor  had 
he  their  stern  simplicity.  In  his  tragedies  the  passion  of 
love  predominates,  nor  does  it  breathe  the  purit}'  of  senti 
ment.  It  approaches  rather  to  the  tone  of  the  modern 
drama.  He  paints  the  weakness  and  corruptions  of  society, 
and  brings  his  subjects  to  the  level  of  common  life.  He  was 
the  pet  of  the  Sophists,  and  was  pantheistic  in  his  views. 
He  does  not  paint  ideal  excellence,  and  his  characters  are 
not  as  men  ought  to  be,  but  as  they  are,  especially  in  cor 
rupt  states  of  society.  He  wrote  ninety-five  plays,  of 
which  eighteen  are  extant.  Whatever  objection  may  be 

1  Schlegel,  Lectures  on  Dramatic  Art ;  Miiller,  Hist.  Lit.  ;  Donaldson's  An 
tigone;  Lessing,  Ltben  des  Sophokles ;  Philip  Smith,  article  in  Smith's  Diet. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Greek  Comedy.  269 

urged  in  reference  to  his  dramas  on  the  score  of  morality, 
nobody  can  question  their  transcendent  art,  or  his  great 
originality.  With  the  exception  of  Shakespeare,  all  suc 
ceeding  dramatists  have  copied  these  three  great,  poets, 
especially  Racine,  who  took  Sophocles  for  his  model.1 

The  Greeks  were  no  less  distinguished  for  comedy.  Both 
tragedy  and  comedy  sprung  from  feasts  in  honor  Greek 
of  Bacchus ;  and  as  the  jests  and  frolics  were  comed^ 
found  misplaced  when  introduced  into  grave  scenes,  a  sep 
arate  province  of  the  drama  was  formed,  and  comedy  arose. 
At  first  it  did  not  derogate  from  the  religious  purposes 
which  were  at  the  foundation  of  the  Greek  drama.  It 
turned  upon  parodies,  in  which  the  adventures  of  the  gods 
are  introduced  by  way  of  sport,  like  the  appetite  of  Her 
cules,  or  the  cowardice  of  Bacchus.  Then  the  comic 
authors  entertained  spectators  by  fantastic  and  gross  dis 
plays  ;  by  the  exhibition  of  buffoons  and  pantomimes. 
But  the  taste  of  the  Athenians  was  too  severe  to  relish 
such  entertainments,  and  comedy  passed  into  ridicule  of 
public  men  and  measures,  and  of  the  fashions  of  the  day. 
The  people  loved  to  see  their  great  men  brought  down  to 
their  own  level.  Nor  did  comedy  flourish  until  the  morals 
of  society  were  degenerated,  and  ridicule  had  become  the 
most  effective  weapon  to  assail  prevailing  follies.  Comedy 
reached  its  culminating  point  when  society  was  both  the 
most  corrupt  and  the  most  intellectual,  as  in  France,  when 
Moliere  pointed  his  envenomed  shafts  against  popular  vices. 
It  pertained  to  the  age  of  Socrates  and  the  Sophists,  when 
there  was  great  bitterness  in  political  parties,  and  an  irre 
pressible  desire  for  novelties.  In  Cratinus,  comedy  first 
made  herself  felt  as  a  great  power,  who  espoused  the  side 
of  Cimon  against  Pericles,  with  great  bitterness  and  ve 
hemence.  Many  were  the  comic  writers  of  that  age  of 
wickedness  and  genius,  but  all  yielded  precedence  to 

i  Muller,   Schlegel.     Sir  Walter  Scott  on  the  Drama;  Grote,  vol.  viii.  p.  442, 
Thorne,  Mag.  Vita.  Eurip.     Potter  has  made  a  translation  of  all  his  plays. 


270  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vn. 

Aristophanes,  whose  plays  only  have  reached  ns.  Never 
Aristoph-  were  libels  on  persons  of  authority  and  influence 
uttered  with  such  terrible  license.  He  attacked 
the  gods,  the  politicians,  the  philosophers,  and  the  poets  of 
Athens ;  even  private  citizens  did  not  escape  from  his 
shafts,  and  women  were  subjects  of  his  irony.  Socrates 
was  made  the  butt  of  his  ridicule,  when  most  revered,  and 
Cleon  in  the  height  of  his  power,  and  Euripides  when  he 
had  gained  the  highest  prizes.  He  has  furnished  jests  for 
Rabelais,  and  hints  to  Swift,  and  humor  for  Moliere.  In 
satire,  in  derision,  in  invective,  and  bitter  scorn,  he  has 
never  been  surpassed.  No  modern  capital  would  tolerate 
such  unbounded  license.  Yet  no  plays  were  ever  more 
popular,  or  more  fully  exposed  follies  which  could  not  other 
wise  be  reached.  He  is  called  the  Father  of  Comedy,  and 
his  comedies  are  of  great  historical  importance,  although 
his  descriptions  are  doubtless  caricatures.  He  was  patri 
otic  in  his  intentions,  and  set  up  for  a  reformer.  His 
peculiar  genius  shines  out  in  his  "  Clouds,"  the  greatest  of 
his  pieces,  in  which  he  attacks  the  Sophists.  He  wrote 
fifty-four  plays.  He  was  born  B.  c.  444,  and  died  B.  c. 
380.  His  best  comedies  are  translated  by  Mitchell. 

Thus  it  would  appear  that  in  the  three  great  depart 
ments  of  poetry,  —  the  epic,  the  lyric,  and  the  dramatic,  — 
the  old  Greeks  were  great  masters,  and  have  been  the 
teachers  of  all  subsequent  nations  and  ages. 

The  Romans,  in  these  departments,  were  not  their  equals, 
but  they  were  very  successful  copyists,  and  will  bear  com 
petition  with  modern  nations.  If  the  Romans  did  not  pro 
duce  a  Homer,  they  can  boast  of  a  Virgil ;  if  they  had  no 
Pindar,  they  furnished  a  Horace,  while  in  satire  they  tran 
scended  the  Greeks. 

The  Romans,  however,  produced  no  poetry  worthy  of 
notice  until  the  Greek  language  and  literature  were  intro 
duced.  It  was  not  till  the  fall  of  Tarentum  that  we  read 
of  a  Roman  poet.  Livius  Andronicus,  a  Greek  slave, 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Dramatic  Poetry.  271 

B.  c.   240,  rudely  translated  the  Odyssey  into  Latin,  and 
was  the  author  of  various  plays,  all  of  which  have  perished, 
and  none   of  which,   according  to   Cicero,  were  worth   a 
second  perusal.     Still   he  was  the  first  to  substitute  the 
Greek  drama  for  the  old  lyrical   stage  poetry.     One  year 
after  the  first  Punic  War,  he  exhibited  the   first  Roman 
play.     As  the  creator  of  the  drama,  he  deserves  historical 
notice,  though  he  has  no  claim  to  originality,  and  like  a 
schoolmaster  as  he  was,  pedantically  labored  to  imitate  the 
culture  of  the   Greeks.     And  his  plays  formed   the  com 
mencement  of  Roman  translation-literature,   and    natural 
ized  the  Greek  metres  in  Latium,  even  though  they  were 
curiosities  rather  than  works  of  art.1      Na?vius, 
B.  c.  235,  produced  a  play  at  Rome,  and  wrote 
both  epic  and  dramatic  poetry,  but  so  little  has  survived, 
that  no  judgment  can  be  formed  of  his  merits.     He  was  ban 
ished  for  his  invectives  against  the  aristocracy,  who  did  not 
relish  severity  of  comedy.2    Mommsen  regards  NaBvius  as 
the  first  among  the  Romans  who  deserves  to  be  ranked 
among  the  poets.     He  flourished  about  the  year  550,  and 
closely  adhered  to  Andronicus  in  metres.     His  language  is 
free   from  stiffness  and  affectation,  and  his  verses  have  a 
graceful  flow.     Plautus  was  perhaps  the  first   great  poet 
whom  the   Romans   produced,  and  his  comedies  are   still 
admired  by  critics,  as   both  original    and   fresh.      He  was 
born  in  Umbria,  B.  c.  257,  and  was  contemporaneous  with 
Publius  and  Cneius  Scipio.     He  died  B.  c.  184. 

The  first  development  of  Roman  genius  in  the  field  of 
poetry,  seems  to  have   been    the  dramatic,  in  which  the 
Greek  authors  were  copied.     Plautus  might  be 
mistaken  for  a  Greek,  were  it  not  for  the  painting 
of  Roman  manners.     His  garb  is  essentially  Greek.     He 
wrote  one   hundred  and  thirty  plays,  not  always  for  the 
stage,  but  for  the   reading  public.      He  lived    about  the 
time  of  the  second  Punic  War,  before  the  theatre  was  fairly 

1  Mommsen,  vol.  ii.  b.  iii.  ch.  xiv.  2  Horaco,  Ep.  ii.  1,  53. 


272  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP,  vn 

established  at  Rome.  His  characters,  although  founded  on 
Greek  models,  act,  speak,  and  joke  like  Romans.  He 
enjoyed  great  popularity  down  to  the  latest  times  of  the 
empire,  while  the  purity  of  his  language,  as  well  as  the 
felicity  of  his  wit,  was  celebrated  by  the  ancient  critics.1 
Cicero  places  his  wit  on  a  par  with  the  old  Attic  comedy,2 
while  Jerome  spent  much  time  in  reading  his  comedies, 
even  though  they  afterward  cost  him  tears  of  bitter  reoret. 

O  *t  O 

Modern  dramatists  owe  much  to  him.  Moliere  has  imi 
tated  him  in  his  "  Avare"  and  Shakespeare  in  his  u  Com 
edy  of  Errors."  Lessing  pronounces  the  "Captivi"  to  be 
the  finest  comedy  ever  brought  upon  the  stage.3  He  has 
translated  this  play  into  German.  It  has  also  been  admi 
rably  translated  into  English.  The  great  excellence  of 
Plautus  was  the  masterly  handling  of  the  language,  and 
the  adjusting  the  parts  for  dramatic  effect.  His  humor, 
broad  and  fresh,  produced  irresistible  comic  effects.  No 
one  ever  surpassed  him  in  his  vocabulary  of  nicknames, 
and  his  happy  jokes.  Hence  he  maintained  his  popularity 
in  spite  of  his  vulgarity.4 

Terence  shares  with  Plautus  the  throne  of  Roman  com 
edy.  He  was  a  Carthaginian  slave,  and  was 
born  B.  c.  160,  but  was  educated  by  a  wealthy- 
Roman,  into  whose  hands  he  fell,  and  ever  after  associated 
with  the  best  society,  and  traveled  extensively  into  Greece. 
He  was  greatly  inferior  to  Plautus  in  originality,  nor  has 
lie  exerted  a  lasting  influence  like  him  ;  but  he  wrote  com 
edies  characterized  by  great  purity  of  diction,  and  which 
have  been  translated  into  all  modern  languages.5  Anterior 
to  the  Augustan  age,  no  tragic  production  has  reached  us, 
although  Quintilian  speaks  highly  of  Accius,6  especially  of 
the  vigor  of  his  style.  But  he  merely  imitated  the  Greeks. 
Terence  closely  copied  Menander,  whom  Mommsen  re- 

1  Quint.,  x.  i.  §  99.  2  Cicero,  De  Off.,  i.  29. 

8  Smith,  Diet,  of  Ant.  art.  Plant.  *  Mommsen,  vol.  ii.  b.  iii.  ch.  xiv. 

6  Coleman's  Terence;  Dryden,  On  Dram.  Poet.;  Mommsen,  vol.  iii.  b.  v.  ch. 
xiu.  «  Quint.,  x.  1.  §  97. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Epic  Poetry.  273 

gards  as  the  most  polished,  elegant,  and  chaste  of  all  the 
poets  of  the  newer  comedy.     Unlike  Plautus,  he  draws  his 
characters  from  good  society,  and  his  comedies,  if  not  moral, 
were  decent.     Plautus  wrote  for  the  multitude  ;  Terence 
for  the  few.  Plautus  delighted  in  a  noisy  dialogue  and  slang 
expressions  ;  Terence  confines  himself  to  quiet  conversa 
tion  and  elegant  expressions,  for  which  he  was  admired  by 
Cicero  and  Quintilian,  and  other  great  critics.     He  aspired 
to  the  approval  of  the  good,  rather  than  the  applause  of 
the  vulgar  ;  and  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  his  comedies 
supplanted  the  more  original  productions  of  Plautus  in  the 
latter  years  of  the  republic,  showing  that  the  literature  of 
the  aristocracy  was  more  prized   than  that  of  the  people, 
even  in  a  degenerate  age.     The  "  Thyestes  " 1  of  Varius, 
was  regarded  in  its  day  as  equal  to  Greek  tragedies.  Enmus 
composed  tragedies  in  a  vigorous  style,  and  was  regarded  by 
the  Romans  as  the  parent  of  their  literature,  although  most 
of  his  works  have   periled.2     Virgil  borrowed  many  of 
his  thoughts,  and  he  was  regarded  as  the  prince  of  Roman 
soncr  in  the  time  of  Cicero.    The  Latin  language  is  greatly 
indebted  to  him.     Pacuvius  imitated  ,Eschylus  in  the  lofti 
ness  of  his  style.*     The  only  tragedy  of  the  Romans  which 
has  reached  us  was  written  by  Seneca  the  philosopher. 

In  epic  poetry  the  Romans  accomplished  more,  though 
still  inferior  to  the  Greeks.  The  "^Eneid  "  has  ^^ 
certainly  survived  the  material  glories  of  Rome. 
It  may  not  have  come  up  to  the  exalted  ideal  of  its  author ; 
it  may  be  defaced  by  political  flatteries  ;  it  may  not  have 
the  force  and  originality  of  the  «  Iliad,"  but  it  is  superior 
in  art,  and  delineates  the  passion  of  love  with  more  deli 
cacy  than  can  be  found  in  any  Greek  author.  In  soundness 
of  judgment,  in  tenderness  of  feeling,  in  chastened  fancy, 
in  picturesque  description,  in  delineation  of  character,  m 
matchless  beauty  of  diction,  and  in  splendor  of  versifica 
tion,  it  has  never  been  surpassed  by  any  poem  in  any  lan- 

l  Her.,  80*.  I  9 ;  Martial,  viiL  18.        «  Born  B.  o.  239.        •  Born  „.  c.  170. 


274  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vn. 

guage,  and  proudly  takes  its  place  among  the  imperishable 
works  of  genius.  "  Availing  himself  of  the  pride  and 
superstition  of  the  Roman  people,  the  poet  traces  the  origin 
and  establishment  of  the  4  Eternal  City,'  to  those  heroes 
and  actions  which  had  enough  in  them  of  what  was  human 
and  ordinary  to  excite  the  sympathies  of  his  coun- 

Virgil.  .      •          .       !     i         .  ,  " 

trymen,  intermingled  with  persons  and  circum 
stances  of  an  extraordinary  and  superhuman  character  to 
awaken  their  admiration  and  awe.  No  subject  could  have 
been  more  happily  chosen.  It  has  been  admired  also  for 
its  perfect  unity  of  action  ;  for  while  the  episodes  command 
the  richest  variety  of  description,  they  are  always  subordi 
nate  to  the  main  object  of  the  poem,  which  is  to  impress 
the  divine  authority  under  which  JEneas  first  settled  in 
Italy.  The  wrath  of  Juno,  upon  which  the  whole  fate  of 
JEneas  seems  to  turn,  is  at  once  that  of  a  woman  and  a  god 
dess  ;  the  passion  of  Dido,  and  her  general  character,  bring 
us  nearer  to  the  present  world ;  but  the  poet  is  continually 
introducing  higher  and  more  effectual  influences,  until,  by 
the  intervention  of  gods  and  men,  the  Trojan  name  is  to 
be  continued  in  the  Roman,  and  thus  heaven  and  earth  are 
appeased."  :  No  one  work  of  man  has  probably  had  such 
a  wide  and  profound  influence  as  this  poem  of  Virgil,  — 
a  text-book  in  all  schools  since  the  revival  of  learning,  the 
model  of  the  Carlovingian  poets,  the  guide  of  Dante,  the 
oracle  of  Tasso.2 

In  lyrical  poetry,  the  Romans  can  boast  of  one  of  the 
greatest  masters  of  any  age  or  nation.     The  Odes 
of  Horace  have  never  been  transcended,  and  will 
probably  remain  through  all  the  ages,  the  delight  of  schol 
ars.     They  may  .not  have  the  deep  religious  sentiment,  and 

1  Thompson,  Hist  Rom.  Lit.,  p.  92. 

2  Virgil  was  born  seventy  years  before  Christ,  and  was  seven  years  older  than 
Augustus.    His  parentage  was  humble,  but  his  facilities  of  education  were  great. 
He  was  a  most  fortunate  man,  enjoying  the  friendship  of  Augustus  and  Maecenas, 
fame  in  his  own  lifetime,  leisure  to  prosecute  his  studies,  and  ample  rewards  for 
his  labors.     He  died  at  Brundusium  at  the  age  of  fifty. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


Horace.  275 


the  unity  of  imagination  and  passion  which  belong  to  the 
Greek  lyrical  poets,  but  as  works  of  art,  of  exquisite  felic 
ity  of  expression,  of  agreeable  images,  they  are  unrivaled. 
Even  in  the  time  of  Juvenal,  his  poems  were  the  common 
school  books  of  Roman  youth.      Horace,  like  Virgil,  was 
a  favored  man,  enjoying  the  friendship  of  the  great  with 
ease,  fame,  and  fortune.     But  his  longings  for  retirement, 
and   his  disgust  at  the   frivolities  around  him,  are  a   sad 
commentary  on  satisfied  desires.1     His  odes  compose  but  a 
small  part  of  his  writings.     His  epistles  are  the  most  per 
fect  of  his  productions,  and  rank  with  the  Georgics  of  Virgil 
and  the   satires  of  Juvenal,  as  the  most  perfect  form  of 
Roman  verse.     His  satires  are  also  admirable,  but  without 
the  fierce  vehemence  and  lofty  indignation  that  character 
ized  Juvenal.     It  is  the  folly  rather  than  the  wickedness 
of  vice  which  he  describes  with  such  playful  skill  and  such 
keenness  of  observation.     He  was  the  first  to  mould  the 
Latin  tongue  to  the  Greek  lyric  measures.     Quintilian's 
criticism  is  indorsed  by  all  scholars.     "  Lyricorum  ffora- 
tiusfere  solus  legi  dignus,  in  verbis felicissime  audax"    No 
poetry  was   ever  more   severely  elaborated  than  that  of 
Horace,  and  the  melody  of  the  language  imparts  to  it  a 
peculiar  fascination.     If  inferior  to  Pindar  in  passion  and 
loftiness,  it  glows  with  a  more  genial  humanity,  and  with 
purer  wit.     It  cannot  be   enjoyed  fully,  except  by  those 
versed  in  the  experiences  of  life.     Such  perceive  a  calm 
wisdom,  a  penetrating  sagacity,  a  sober  enthusiasm,  and  a 
refined  taste,  which  are  unusual  even  among  the  masters  of 
human  thought.    It  is  the  fashion  to  depreciate  the  original 
merits  of  this  poet,  as  well  as  those  of  Virgil  and  Plautus 
and  Terence,  because  they  derived  so  much  assistance  from 
the  Greeks.     But  the  Greeks  borrowed  from  each  other. 
Pure  originality  is  impossible.  It  is  the  mission  of  art  to  add 
to  its  stores,  without  hoping  to  monopolize  the  whole  realm. 

l  Bora  B.  c.  65.    The  best  translation  of  his  works  is  by  Francis;  but  Horace 
is  untranslatable. 


276  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

Even  Shakespeare,  the  most  original  of  modern  poets,  was 

vastly  indebted  to  those  who  went  before  him,  and  even  he 

has  not  escaped  the  hypercriticism  of  minute  observers. 

In  this  allusion  to  lyrical  poetry,  I  have  not  spoken  of 

Catullus,    unrivaled    in    tender   lyric,    and    the 

Catullus.  * 

greatest  poet  before  the  Augustan  era.  He  was 
born  B.  c.  87,  and  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  the  most  cele 
brated  characters.  One  hundred  and  sixteen  of  his  poems 
have  come  down  to  us,  most  of  which  are  short,  and  many 
of  them  defiled  by  great  coarseness  and  sensuality.  Critics 
say,  however,  that  whatever  he  touched  he  adorned  ;  that 
his  vigorous  simplicity,  pungent  wit,  startling  invective,  and 
felicity  of  expression,  make  him  one  of  the  great  poets  of 
the  Latin  language. 

In  didactic    poetry,  Lucretius  was    preeminent,  and  is 
regarded  by  Schlegel  as  the  first  of  Roman  poets 

Lucretius.          .  .  *     ,  ° 

in  native  genius.1  He  lived  before  the  Augustan 
era,  and  died  at  the  age  of  forty-two  by  his  own  hand.  His 
great  poem  "  De  Rerum  Natura,"  is  a  delineation  of  the 
epicurean  philosophy,  and  treats  of  all  the  great  subjects 
of  thought  with  which  his  age  is  conversant.  It  somewhat 
resembles  Pope's  "  Essay  on  Man,"  in  style  and  subject, 
but  immeasurably  superior  in  poetical  genius.  It  is  a 
lengthened  disquisition,  in  seven  thousand  four  hundred 
lines,  of  the  great  phenomena  of  the  outward  world.  As  a 
painter  and  worshiper  of  nature,  he  was  superior  to  all  the 
poets  of  antiquity.  His  skill  in  presenting  abstruse  specu 
lations  is  marvelous,  and  his  outbursts  of  poetic  genius  are 
matchless  in  power  and  beauty.  Into  all  subjects  he  casts 
a  fearless  eye,  and  writes  with  sustained  enthusiasm.  But 
he  was  not  fully  appreciated  by  his  countrymen,  although 
no  other  poet  has  so  fully  brought  out  the  power  of  the 
Latin  language.  Professor  Ramsay,2  while  alluding  to  the 

;    *  Born  B.  c.  95,  died  B.  c.  52.     Smith's  Diet. 

1    2  The  translation  of  Lucretius  into  English  was  made  by  I.  M.  Goode,  Evelyn, 

and  Drummond. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Elegiac  Poets.  277 

melancholy  tenderness  of  Tibullus,  the  exquisite  ingenuity 
of  Ovid,  the  inimitable  felicity  and  taste  of  Horace,  the 
gentleness  and  splendor  of  Virgil,  and  the  vehement  dec 
lamation  of  Juvenal,  thinks  that,  had  the  verses  of  Lucre 
tius  perished,  we  should  never  have  known  that  it  could 
give  utterance  to  the  grandest  conceptions  with  all  that  self- 
sustained  majesty  and  harmonious  swell,  in  which  the  Gre 
cian  muse  rolls  forth  her  loftiest  outpourings.  The  eulo- 
gium  of  Ovid  is  — 

"  Carmina  sublimis  tune  sunt  peritura  Lucretl, 
Exitio  terras  quum  dabit  una  dies." 

Elegiac  poetry  has  an  honorable  place  in  Roman  litera 
ture.  To  this  school  belongs  Ovid,1  whose  "  Meta-  Q^ 
morphoses  "  will  always  retain  their  interest.  He, 
with  that  self-conscious  genius  common  to  poets,  declares 
that  his  poem  would  be  proof  against  sword,  fire,  thunder, 
and  time,  —  a  prediction,  says  Bayle,2  which  has  not  yet 
proved  false.  Niebuhr3  thinks  that,  next  to  Catullus,  he 
was  the  most  poetical  of  his  countrymen.  Milton  thinks 
he  could  have  surpassed  Virgil  had  he  attempted  epic 
poetry.  He  was  nearest  to  the  romantic  school  of  all  the 
classical  authors,  and  Chaucer,  Ariosto,  and  Spenser  owe  to 
him  great  obligations.  Like  Pope,  his  verses  flowed  spon 
taneously.  His  "  Tristia  "  were  more  admired  by  the  Ro 
mans  than  his  "  Amores  "  or  "  Metamorphoses," —  probably 
from  the  doleful  description  of  his  exile, —  a  fact  which  shows 
that  contemporaries  are  not  always  the  best  judges  of  real 
merit.  His  poems,  great  as  was  their  genius,  are  deficient 
in  the  severe  taste  which  marked  the  Greeks,  and  are  im 
moral  in  their  tendency.  He  had  great  advantages,  but 
was  banished  by  Augustus  for  his  description  of  licentious 
love,  "  Carmina  per  libidinosa."  Nor  did  he  support  exile 
with  dignity.  He  died  of  a  broken  heart,  and  languished, 
like  Cicero,  when  doomed  to  a  similar  fate.  But  few  intel- 

l  Born  B.  c.  43.    Died  A.  D.  18.  2  Bayle,  Diet. 

3  Lect.,  vol.  ii.  p-  166. 


278  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vu. 

lectual  men  have  ever  been  able  to  live  at  a  distance  from 
the  scene  of  their  glories,  and  without  the  stimulus  of  high 
society.  Chrysostom  is  one  of  the  few  exceptions.  Ovid, 
as  an  immoral  man,  was  justly  punished. 

Tibullus  was  also  a  famous  elegiac  poet,  and  was  born 
the  same  year  as  Ovid,  and  was   the  friend  of 

Tibullus.  FT       T        i     •  •  i  11 

Horace,  lie  lived  in  retirement,  and  was  both 
gentle  and  amiable.  At  his  beautiful  country  seat  he 
soothed  his  soul  with  the  charms  of  literature  and  the  simple 
pleasures  of  the  country.  Niebuhr  pronounces  his  elegies 
doleful,1  but  Merivale 2  thinks  that  "  the  tone  of  tender 
melancholy  in  which  he  sung  his  unprosperous  loves  had  a 
deeper  and  purer  source  than  the  caprices  of  three  incon 
stant  paramours."  "  His  spirit  is  eminently  religious,  though 
it  bids  him  fold  his  hands  in  resignation  rather  than  open 
them  in  hope.  He  alone  of  all  the  great  poets  of  his  day 
remained  undazzled  by  the  glitter  of  the  Caesarian  usurpa 
tion,  and  pined  away  in  unavailing  despondency,  in  behold 
ing  the  subjugation  of  his  country." 

His  contemporary,  Propertius,3  was,  on  the  contrary,  the 
most  eager  of  all  the  flatterers  of  Augustus,  —  a 
man  of  wit  and  pleasure,  whose  object  of  idolatry 
was  Cynthia,  a  poetess  and  a  courtesan.  He  was  an 
imitator  of  the  Greeks,  but  had  a  great  contemporary 
fame,4  and  shows  great  warmth  of  passion,  but  he  never 
soared  into  the  sublime  heights  of  poetry,  like  his  rival. 
Such  were  among  the  great  elegiac  poets  of  Rome,  generally 
devoted  to  the  delineation  of  the  passion  of  love.  The 
older  English  poets  resembled  them  in  this  respect,  but 
none  of  them  have  soared  to  such  lofty  heights  as  the  later 
ones,  like  Wordsworth  and  Tennyson.  It  is  in  lyric  poetry 
that  the  moderns  have  chiefly  excelled  the  ancients,  in 
variety,  in  elevation  of  sentiment,  and  in  imagination. 

l  Led.,  vol.  iii.  p.  143.  2  Hist.,  vol.  iv.  p.  602. 

»  Born  B.  c.  51.  4  Quint,  x.  1.  §  93. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Satirical  Poetry.  279 

The   grandeur  and  originality  of  the   ancients   were  dis 
played  rather  in  epic  and  dramatic  poetry. 

In  satire  the  Romans  transcended  both  the  Greeks  and 
the  moderns.  There  is  nothing  in  any  language 
which  equals  the  fire,  the  intensity,  and  the  bit 
terness  of  Juvenal,  —  not  even  Swift  and  Pope.  But  he 
flourished  in  the  decline  of  literature,  and  has  neither 
the  taste  nor  elegance  of  the  Augustan  writers.  He  was 
the  son  of  a  freedman,  and  was  born  A.  D.  38,  and  was  the 
contemporary  of  Martial.  He  was  banished  by  Domitian 
on  account  of  a  lampoon  against  a  favorite  dancer,  but 
under  the  reign  of  Nerva  he  returned  to  Rome,  and  the 
imperial  tyranny  was  the  subject  of  his  bitterest  denun 
ciation,  next  to  the  degradation  of  public  morals.  His 
great  rival  in  satire  was  Horace,  who  laughed  at  follies  ; 
but  he,  more  austere,  exaggerated  and  denounced  them. 
His  sarcasms  on  women  have  never  been  equaled  in  sever 
ity,  and  we  cannot  but  hope  that  they  were  unjust.  In  an 
historical  point  of  view,  as  a  delineation  of  the  manners  of 
his  age,  his  satires  are  priceless,  even  like  the  epigrams  of 
Martial.  Satire  arose  with  Lucilius,1  in  the  time  of  Marius, 
an  age  when  freedom  of  speech  was  tolerated.  Horace  was 
the  first  to  gain  immortality  in  this  department. 
Persius  comes  next,  born  A.  D.  34,  the  friend  of 
Lucan  and  Seneca  in  the  time  of  Nero ;  and  he  painted 
the  vices  of  his  age  when  it  was  passing  to  that  degrada 
tion  which  marked  the  reign  of  Domitian  when  Juvenal 
appeared,  who,  disdaining  fear,  boldly  set  forth  the  abom 
inations  of  the  times,  and  struck  without  distinction  all 
who  departed  from  duty  and  conscience.  This  uncom 
promising  poet,  not  pliant  and  easy  like  Horace,  animad 
verted,  like  an  incorruptible  censor,  on  the  vices  which 
were  undermining  the  moral  health  and  preparing  the  way 
for  violence  ;  on  the  hypocrisy  of  philosophers  and  the 
cruelty  of  tyrants ;  on  the  weakness  of  women  and  the  de- 

l  Born  B.  c.  148. 


280  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII- 

bauchery  ot  men.  He  discourses  on  the  vanity  of  human 
wishes  with  the  moral  wisdom  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  urges 
self-improvement  like  Socrates  and  Epictetus.1 

I  might  speak  of  other  celebrated  poets,  —  of  Lucan,  of 
Martial,  of  Petronius ;  but  I  only  wish  to  show  that  the 
great  poets  of  antiquity,  both  Greek  and  Roman,  have 
never  been  surpassed  in  genius,  in  taste,  and  in  art,  and  few 
were  ever  more  honored  in  their  lifetime  by  appreciating  ad 
mirers  showing  the  advanced  state  of  civilization  which  was 
reached  in  every  thing  pertaining  to  the  realm  of  thought. 

But  the  genius  of  the  ancients  was  displayed  in  prose 
composition  as  well  as  in  poetry,  although  perfection  was 
not  so  soon  attained.  The  poets  were  the  great  creators 
of  the  languages  of  antiquity.  It  was  not  until  they  had 
produced  their  immortal  works  that  the  languages  were 
sufficiently  softened  and  refined  to  admit  of  great  beauty 
in  prose.  Bat  prose  requires  art  as  well  as  poetry.  There 
is  an  artistic  rhythm  in  the  writings  of  the  classical  au 
thors,  like  those  of  Cicero  and  Herodotus  and  Thucydides, 
as  marked  as  in  the  beautiful  measure  of  Homer  and  Virgil. 
Burke  and  Macaulay  are  as  great  artists  in  style  as  Ten 
nyson  himself.  Plato  did  not  write  poetry,  but  his  prose  is 
as  "  musical  as  Apollo's  lyre."  And  it  is  seldom  that  men, 
either  in  ancient  or  modern  times,  have  been  distinguished 
for  both  kinds  of  composition,  although  Voltaire,  Schiller, 
Milton,  Swift,  and  Scott  are  among  the  exceptions.  Cicero, 
the  greatest  prose  writer  of  antiquity,  produced  only  an 
inferior  poem,  laughed  at  by  his  contemporaries.  Bacon 
could  not  write  poetry,  with  all  his  affluence  of  thought 
and  vigor  of  imagination  and  command  of  language,  any 
easier  than  Pope  could  write  prose. 

All  sorts  of  prose  compositions  were  carried  to  perfection 
by  both  Greeks  and  Romans,  in  history,  in  criticism,  in 
philosophy,  in  oratory,  in  epistles. 

1  The  best  translations  of  Juvenal  are  those  of  Dryden,  Gifford,  and  Bad- 


CHAP,  vii.]  Herodotus. 

The  earliest  great  prose  writer  among  the  Greeks  was 
Herodotus,1  from  which  we  may  infer  that  History  Herodotug 
was  the   first  form  of  prose   composition  which 
attained  development.     But  Herodotus  was  not  born  until 
JEschylus  had  gained  a  prize  for  tragedy,  more  than  two 
hundred  years  af'er  Simonides,  the  lyric  poet,  flourished, 
and  probably  six  hundred  years  after  Homer  sung  his  im 
mortal  epics.     After  more   than  two  thousand  years  the 
style  of  this    great  "  Father  of  History "  is  admired   by 
every  critic ;  while  his  history,  as  a  work  of  art,  is  still  a 
study  and  a  marvel.     It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  no 
anterior  work  in  prose  is  worthy  of  note,  since  the  Greeks 
had  attained  a  high  civilization  two  hundred  years  before 
he  appeared,  and  the  language  had  reached  a  high  point 
of  development  under  Homer  for  more  than  five  hundred 
years.     The  history  of  Herodotus  was  probably  written  in 
the  decline  of  life,  when  his  mind  was  enriched  with  great 
attainments  in  all  the  varied  learning  of  his  age,  and  when 
he  had  conversed  with  most  of  the  celebrated  men  of  the 
various  countries  which  he  visited.     It  pertains  chiefly  to 
the  wars  of  the  Greeks  with  the  Persians  ;  but,  in  his  fre 
quent  episodes,  which  do  not  impair  the  unity  of  the  work, 
he  is  led  to  speak  of  the   manners  and  customs  of  the 
oriental    nations.     It  was    once  the   fashion    to   speak  of 
Herodotus  as  a  credulous  man,  who  embodied  the  most 
improbable,  though  interesting  stories.     But  now  it  is  be 
lieved  that  no  historian  was  ever  more  profound,  conscien 
tious,  and  careful ;  and  all  modern  investigations  confirm 
his  sagacity  and  impartiality.     H"e  was  one  of  the   most 
accomplished   men  of  antiquity,  or  of  any  age,  — an  en 
lightened  and  curious  traveler,  a  profound  thinker,  a  man 
of  universal   knowledge,   familiar  with    the   whole   range 
of  literature,  art,  and%cience  in  his  day,  acquainted  with 
all  the  great  men  of  Greece  and  at  the  courts  of  Asiatic 
princes,  the  friend  of  Sophocles,  of  Pericles,  of  Thucydides, 
of  Aspasia,  of  Socrates,  of  Damon,  of  Zeno,  of  Pheidias,  of 

1  Born  B.  c.  484. 


282  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

Protagoras,  of  Euripides,  of  Polygnotus,  of  Anaxagoras,  of 
Xenophon,  of  Alcibiades,  of  Lysias,  of  Aristophanes,  —  the 
most  brilliant  constellation  of  men  of  genius  who  were  ever 
found  together  within  the  walls  of  a  Grecian  city,  respected 
and  admired  by  these  great  lights,  all  of  whom  he  tran 
scended  in  knowledge.  Thus  was  he  fitted  for  his  task  by 
travel,  by  study,  and  by  intercourse  with  the  great,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  original  genius,  and  the  greatest  prose  work 
whicli  had  yet  appeared  in  Greece  was  produced,  —  a 
prose  epic,  severe  in  taste,  perfect  in  unity,  rich  in  moral 
wisdom,  charming  in  style,  religious  in  spirit,  grand  in  sub 
ject,  without  a  coarse  passage  ;  simple,  unaffected,  and 
beautiful,  like  the  narratives  of  the  Bible  ;  amusing,  yet 
instructive,  easy  to  understand,  yet  extending  to  the  ut 
most  boundaries  of  human  research  —  a  model  for  all 
subsequent  historians.  So  highly  was  it  valued  by  the 
Athenians,  when  their  city  was  at  the  height  of  its  splen 
dor,  that  they  decreed  to  its  author  ten  talents,  about 
twelve  thousand  dollars,  for  reciting  it.  He  even  went 
from  city  to  city,  a  sort  of  prose  rhapsodist,  or  like  a 
modern  lecturer,  reciting  his  history  —  an  honored  and 
extraordinary  man,  a  sort  of  Humboldt,  having  mastered 
every  thing.  And  he  wrote,  not  for  fame,  but  to  commu 
nicate  the  results  of  his  inquiries,  from  the  pure  love  of 
truth  which  he  learned  by  personal  investigation  at  Dodona, 
at  Delphi,  at  Sarnos,  at  Athens,  at  Corinth,  at  Thebes,  at 
Tyre  ;  yea,  he  traveled  into  Egypt,  Scythia,  Asia  Minor, 
Palestine,  Babylonia,  Italy,  and  the  islands  of  the  sea.  His 
episode  in  Egypt  is  worth  more,  in  an  historical  point  of 
view,  than  every  thing  combined  which  has  descended  to 
us  from  antiquity.  Herodotus  was  the  first  to  give  dignity 
to  history  ;  nor,  in  truthfulness,  candor,  and  impartiality, 
has  he  ever  been  surpassed.  His  very  simplicity  of  style 
is  a  proof  of  his  transcendent  art,  even  as  it  is  the  evidence 
of  his  severity  of  taste.1 

1  Dahlman  has  written  an  admirable  life  of  Herodotus;  but  Rawlinson's  trans 
lation,  with  his  notes,  is  invaluable. 


CHAP.  VII.]  Thucydides.  —  Xenophon.  283 

To  Thucydides,  as  an  historian,  the  modern  world  also 
assigns  a  proud  preeminence.     He  treated  only  Thucydide8 
of  a  short  period,  during  the  Peloponnesian  War  ; 
but  the  various  facts  connected  with  that  great  event  could 
only  be  known  by  -the   most  minute  and  careful  inquiries. 
He  devoted  twenty-seven  years  to  the  composition  of  his 
narration,  and  he  weighed    his  testimony  with  the  most 
scrupulous  care.     His    style    has    not   the    fascination  of 
Herodotus,  but  it  is  more  concise.     In  a  single  volume  he 
relates  what  could  scarcely  be  compressed  into  eight  vol 
umes  of  a  modern  history.     As  a  work  of  art,  of  its  kind, 
it  is  unrivaled.     In  his  description  of  the  plague  of  Athens 
he  is  minute  as  he  is  simple.     He  abounds  with  rich  moral 
reflections,  and  has  a  keen  perception  of  human  character. 
His  pictures  are  striking  and  tragic.     He  is  vigorous  and 
intense,   and  every   word  he   uses   has  a   meaning. 
some  of  his  sentences  are  not  always  easily  understood. 
One  of  the  greatest  tributes  which  can  be  paid  to  him  is, 
that,  according  to  the  estimate  of  an  able  critic,1  we  have 
a  more  exact  history  of  a  long  and  eventful  period  by 
Thucydides  than  we  have  of  any  period  in  modern  history, 
equally  long  and  eventful  ;  and  all  this  is  compressed  into 

a  volume.2 

Xenophon  is  the  last  of  the  trio  of  the  Greek  histonans, 
whose  writings  are  classical  and  inimitable.3     He   Xenophon 
is  characterized  by  great  simplicity  and  absence 
of  affectation.     His  "  Anabasis,"  in  which  he  describes  the 
expedition  of  the  younger  Cyrus  and  the  retreat  of  the  ten 
thousand  Greeks,  is  his  most  famous  book.    But  his  "  Cyro- 
padia,"  in  which  the  history  of  Cyrus  is  the  subject,  al- 
thouo-h  still  used  as  a  classic  in  colleges  for  the  beauty  of 
the  style,  has    no  value   as    a   history,   since  the   author 
merely  adopted  the   current  stories   of  his  hero  without 


years  in  exile  on  account  of  a  military  failure. 
Born  probably  about  444  B.  c. 


284  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

sufficient  investigation.  Xenophon  wrote  a  variety  of 
treatises  and  dialogues,  but  his  "  Memorabilia  "  of  Socrates 
is  the  most  valuable.  All  antiquity  and  all  modern  writers 
unite  in  giving  to  Xenophon  great  merit  as  a  writer,  and 
great  moral  elevation  as  a  man. 

If  we  pass  from  the  Greek  to  the  Latin  historians,  —  to 
those  who  were  as  famous  as  the  Greek,  and  whose  merit 
has  scarcely  been  transcended  in  our  modern  times,  if,  in 
deed,  it  has  been  equaled,  —  the  great  names  of  Sallust,  of 
Csesar,  of  Livy,  of  Tacitus,  rise  up  before  us,  together  with 
a  host  of  other  names  we  have  not  room  or  disposition  to 
present,  since  we  only  aim  to  show  that  the  ancients  were 
at  least  our  equals  in  this  great  department  of  prose  com 
position.  The  first  great  masters  of  the  Greek  language 
in  prose  were  the  historians,  so  far  as  their  writings  have 
descended,  although  it  is  probable  that  the  orators  may 
have  shaped  the  language  before  them,  and  given  it  flex 
ibility  and  refinement.  The  first  great  prose  writers  of 
Rome  were  the  orators.  Nor  was  the  Latin  language  fully 
developed  and  polished  until  Cicero  appeared.  But  we  do 
not  write  a  history  of  the  language  :  we  speak  only  of 
those  -who  wrote  immortal  works  in  the  various  depart 
ments  of  learning. 

As  Herodotus  did  not  arise  until  the  Greek  language 
had  been  already  formed  by  the  poets,  so  no  great  prose 
writer  appeared  among  the  Romans  for  a  considerable  time 
after  Plautus,  Terence,  Ennius,  and  Lucretius  flourished. 

The  first  great  historian  was  Sallust,  the  contemporary 
of  Cicero,  born  B.  c.  86,  the  year  that  Marius 
died.  Q.  Fabius  Pictor,  M.  Portius  Cato,  L.  Cal. 
Piso  had  already  written  works  which  are  mentioned  with 
respect  by  the  Latin  authors,  but  they  were  mere  annalists 
or  antiquarians,  like  the  chroniclers  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  had  no  claim  as  artists.  Sallust  made  Thucydides  his 
model,  but  fell  below  him  in  genius  and  elevated  senti 
ment.  He  was  born  a  plebeian,  and  rose  to  distinction  by 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Historians.  285 

his  talents,  but  was  ejected  from  the  Senate  for  his  profli 
gacy.  Afterwards  he  made  a  great  fortune  as  praBtor  and 
governor  of  Numidia,  and  lived  in  magnificence  on  the 
Quirinal  —  one  of  the  most  profligate  of  the  literary  men 
of  antiquity.  We  possess  but  a  small  portion  of  his  works, 
but  the  fragments  which  have  come  down  to  us  show 

O 

peculiar  merit.  He  sought  to  penetrate  the  human  heart, 
and  reveal  the  secret  motives  which  actuate  the  conduct 
of  men.  His  style  is  brilliant,  but  his  art  is  always  appar 
ent.  He  is  clear  and  lively,  but  rhetorical.  Like  Voltaire, 
who  inaugurated  modern  history,  he  thought  more  of  style 
than  of  accuracy  of  facts.  He  was  a  party  man,  and  never 
soared  beyond  his  party.  He  aped  the  moralist,  but 
erected  egotism  and  love  of  pleasure  into  proper  springs  of 
action,  and  honored  talent  disconnected  with  virtue.  Like 
Carlyle,  he  exalted  strong  men,  and  because  they  were 
strong.  He  was  not  comprehensive  like  Cicero,  or  philo 
sophical  like  Thucydides,  although  he  affected  philosophy  as 
he  did  morality.  He  was  the  first  who  deviated  from  the 
strict  narratives  of  events,  and  also  introduced  much  rhetor 
ical  declamation,  which  he  puts  into  the  mouths  of  his 
heroes.1  He  wrote  for  eclat. 

Csesar,  as  an  historian,  ranks  higher,  and  no  Roman 
ever  wrote  purer  Latin  than  he.  But  his  histor- 
ical  works,  however  great  their  merit,  but  feebly 
represent  his  transcendent  genius  —  the  most  august  name 
of  antiquity.  He  was  mathematician,  architect,  poet,  phi 
lologist,  orator,  jurist,  general,  statesman  —  imperator.  In 
eloquence  he  was  only  second  to  Cicero.  The  great  value 
of  his  history  is  in  the  sketches  of  the  productions,  the 
manners,  the  customs,  and  the  political  state  of  Gaul, 
Britain,  and  Germany.  His  observations  on  military  sci 
ence,  on  the  operation  of  sieges,  and  construction  of  bridges 
and  military  engines,  are  valuable.  But  the  description  of 

i  The  best  translations  of  this  author  are  those  by  Stewart,  1806,  and  Murphy, 
1807. 


286  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vil. 

his  military  operations  is  only  a  studied  apology  for  his 
crimes,  even  as  the  bulletins  of  Napoleon  were  set  forth  to 
show  his  victories  in  the  most  favorable  light.  His  fame 
rests  on  his  victories  and  successes  as  a  statesman  rather 
than  on  his  merits  as  an  historian,  even  as  Louis  Napoleon 
will  live  in  history  for  his  deeds  rather  than  as  the  apolo 
gist  of  Caesar.1  The  "  Commentaries  "  resemble  the  his 
tory  of  Herodotus  more  than  any  other  Latin  production, 
at  least  in  style  ;  they  are  simple  and  unaffected,  precise 
and  elegant,  plain  and  without  pretension. 

Caesar  was  born  B.  c.  100,  and  while  I  admire  his  genius 
and  his  generosity,  I  hold  in  detestation  the  ambition  which 
led  him  to  overturn  the  constitution  of  his  country  on  the 
plea  of  revolutionary  necessity.  It  is  true  that  there  was 
the  strife  of  parties  and  factions,  greedy  of  revenge,  and 
still  more  of  spoils.  It  was  a  period  of  "great  offenses" 
but  it  was  also  the  brightest  period  in  Roman  history,  so 
far  as  pertains  to  the  development  of  genius.  It  was  more 
favorable  to  literature  than  the  lauded  "  Augustan  era." 
It  was  an  age  of  free  opinions,  in  which  liberty  gave 
her  last  sigh,  and  when  heroic  efforts  were  made  to  bring 
back  the  ancient  virtue,  and  to  save  the  state  from  despot 
ism.  The  lives  of  Piso,  of  Milo,  of  Cinna,  of  Lepidus,  of 
Cotta,  of  Dolabella,  of  Crassus,  of  Quintus  Maximus,  of 
Aquila,  of  Pompey,  of  Brutus,  of  Cassius,  of  Antony, 
show  what  extraordinary  men  of  action  were  then  upon 
the  stage,  both  good  and  evil,  while  Varro,  Cicero,  Catul 
lus,  Lucretius,  and  Sallust  gave  glory  to  the  world  of  letters. 
It  may  have  resulted  favorably  to  the  peace  of  society  that 
the  imperial  rule  supplanted  the  aristocratic  regime,  but  it 
was  a  change  fatal  to  liberty  of  speech  and  all  independent 
action  —  a  change,  the  good  of  which  was  on  the  outside, 
and  in  favor  of  material  interests,  but  the  evil  of  which 
was  internal,  and  consumed  secretly,  but  surely,  the  real 
greatness  of  the  empire. 

1  See  History  of  Ccesar,  by  Napoleon,  a  work  more  learned  than  popular,  how 
ever  greatly  he  may  be  indebted  to  the  labors  of  others. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Historians.  287 

The  Augustan  age,  though  it  produced  a  constellation 
of  poets  who  shed  glory  upon  the  throne  before  Prose  com. 
which  they  prostrated  themselves  in  abject  horn-  p 
age,  like  the  courtiers  of  Louis  XIV.,  still  was  unfavorable 
to  prose  composition,  —  to  history  as   well  as   eloquence. 
Of  the  historians,  Livy  is  the  only  one  whose  writings  are 
known  to  us,  and  only  fragments  of  his  history.1     He  was 
a  man  of  distinction  at  court,  and  had  a  great  literary  repu 
tation —  so  great  that  a  Spaniard  traveled  from  Cadiz  on 
purpose  to  see  him.     Most  of  the  great  historians  of  the 
world    have  occupied    places  of  honor   and   rank,   which 
were  given   to  them   not  as  prizes  for  literary  successes, 
but  for  the  experience,  knowledge,  and   culture  ^  "^ 
which    high    social    position    and    ample    means  historians. 
secured.     Herodotus  lived  in  courts;  Thucydides  was    a 
great  general,  also  Xenophon  ;  Caesar  wrote  his  own  ex 
ploits  ;  Sallust  was  praetor  and  governor ;  Livy  was  tutor 
to  Claudius  ;  Tacitus    was   praetor   and   consul  suffectus  ; 
Eusebius  was  bishop  and  favorite  of  Constantino  ;  Ammia- 
nus  was  the  friend  of  the  Emperor  Julian  ;  Gregory  of 
Tours  was  one  of  the  leading  prelates  of  the  West ;  Frois- 
sart  attended  in  person,  as  a  man  of  rank,  the  military  ex 
peditions  of  his  day  ;  Clarendon  was  Lord  Chancellor  ;  Bur- 
net  was  a  bishop  and  favorite  of  William  III.  ;  Thiers  and 
Guizot  both  were  prime  ministers  ;  while  Gibbon,  Hume, 
Robertson,  Macaulay,  Grote,  Milman,  Neander,  Niebuhr, 
Miiller,  Dahlman,  Buckle,  Prescott,  Irving,  Bancroft,  Mot 
ley,  have  all  been  men  of  wealth  or  position.     Nor  do  I 
remember  a  single  illustrious  historian  who  has  been  poor 
and  neglected. 

The  ancients  regarded  Livy  as  the  greatest  of  historians, 
—  an  opinion  not  indorsed  by  modern  critics,  on      ^ 
account  of  his  inaccuracies.     But  his  narrative  is 
always  interesting,  and  his  language   pure.     He  did  not 
sift  evidence  like  Grote,  nor  generalize  like  Gibbon  ;  but 

i  Born  B.  c.  59. 


288  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vn. 

he  was,  like  Voltaire  and  Macaulay,  an  artist  in  style,  and 
possessed  undoubted  genius.  His  annals  are  comprised  in 
one  hundred  and  forty-two  books,  extending  from  the  foun 
dation  of  the  city  to  the  death  of  Drusus,  B.  c.  9,  of  which 
only  thirty -five  have  come  down  to  us  —  an  impressive 
commentary  on  the  vandalism  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the 
ignorance  of  the  monks  who  could  not  preserve  so  great  a 
treasure.  "  His  story  flows  in  a  calm,  clear,  sparkling  cur 
rent,  with  every  charm  which  simplicity  and  ease  can 
give."  He  delineates  character  with  great  clearness  and 
power  ;  his  speeches  are  noble  rhetorical  compositions  ;  his 
sentences  are  rhythmical  cadences.  He  was  not  a  critical 
historian,  like  Herodotus,  for  he  took  his  materials  second 
hand,  and  he  was  ignorant  of  geography  ;  nor  did  he 
write  with  the  exalted  ideal  of  Thucydides,  but  as  a 
painter  of  beautiful  forms,  which  only  a  rich  imagination 
could  conjure,  he  is  unrivaled  in  the  history  of  literature. 
Moreover,  he  was  honest  and  sound  in  heart,  and  was  just 
and  impartial  in  reference  to  those  facts  with  which  he  was 
conversant. 

In  the  estimation  of  modern  critics,  the  highest  rank,  as 
an  historian,  is  assigned  to  Tacitus,  and  it  would 

Tacitus. 

be  difficult  to  find  his  rival  in  any  age  or  coun 
try.  He  was  born  A.  D.  57,  about  forty-three  years  after 
the  death  of  Augustus.  He  belonged  to  the  equestrian 
rank,  and  was  a  man  of  consular  dignity.  He  had  every 
facility  for  literary  labors  that  leisure,  wealth,  friends,  and 
social  position  could  give,  and  he  lived  under  a  reign  when 
truth  could  be  told. 

The  extant  works  of  this  great  writer  are  the  "  Life  of 
Agricola,"  his  father-in-law  ;  his  "  Annales,"  which  com 
mence  with  the  death  of  Augustus,  A.  D.  14,  and  close 
with  the  death  of  Nero,  A.  D.  68 ;  the  "  Historic,"  which 
comprise  the  period  from  the  second  consulate  of  Galba, 
A.  D.  68,  to  the  death  of  Domitian ;  and  a  treatise  on  the 
Germans. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Roman  Historians.  289 

His  histories  describe  Rome  in  the  fullness  of  imperial 
glory,  when  the  will  of  one  man  was  the  supreme   Histories  of 
law  of  the  empire.    He  also  wrote  of  events  when  Tacltu8' 
liberty  had  fled,  and  the  yoke  of  despotism  was  nearly  in 
supportable.     He  describes  a  period  of  great  moral  degra 
dation,  nor  does  he  hesitate  to  lift  the  veil  of  hypocrisy  in 
which  his  generation   had  wrapped  itself.     He  fearlessly 
exposes  the  cruelties  and  iniquities  of  the  early  emperors, 
and  writes  with  judicial  impartiality  respecting  all  the  great 
characters  he  describes.     No  ancient  writer  shows  greater 
moral  dignity  and  integrity  of  purpose  than  Tacitus.     In 
point  of  artistic  unity  he  is  superior  to  Livy  and  equal  to 
Thucydides,  whom  he   resembles  in  conciseness  of  style. 
His  distinguishing  excellence  as  an  historian  is  his  sagacity 
and  impartiality.     Nothing  escapes  his  penetrating  eye  ; 
and  he  inflicts  merited  chastisement  on   the  tyrants  who 
reveled  in  the  prostrated  liberties  of  his  country,  while  he 
immortalizes  those  few  who  were  faithful  to  duty  and  con 
science  in  a  degenerate  age.     But  his  writings  were  not  so 
popular  as  those  of  Livy.     Neither  princes  nor  people  rel 
ished  his  intellectual  independence  and   moral  elevation. 
He  does  not  satisfy  Dr.  Arnold,  who  thinks  he  ought  to 
have  been  better  versed  in  the  history  of  the  Jews,  and 
who  dislikes  his  speeches  because  they  were  fictitious. 

Neither  the  Latin  nor  Greek  historians  are  admired  by 
those  dry  critics,  who  seek  to  give  to  rare  anti-   Qualities^ 
quarian    matter    a    disproportionate    importance,   immortality 
and  to  make  this  matter  as  fixed  and  certain  as  torians. 
the  truths  of  natural  science.     History  can  never  be  other 
than  an  approximation  to  the  truth,  even  when  it  relates 
to  the  events  and  characters  of  our  own  age.     History  does 
not  give  positive  knowledge  which  cannot  be  disputed  ex 
cept  in  general  terms.     We   know  that  CaBsar  was  ambi 
tious,  but  we  do  not  know  whether  he  was  more  or  less  so 
than  Pompey,  nor  do  we  know  how  far  he  was  justified  in 
his  usurpation.     A  great  history  must  have  other  merits 


290  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vii. 

than  mere  accuracy,  or  antiquarian  research,  or  display  of 
authorities  and  notes.  It  must  be  a  work  of  art,  and 
art  has  reference  to  style  and  language,  to  grouping  of 
details  and  richness  of  illustration,  to  eloquence  and  poe 
try  and  beauty.  A  dry  history,  if  ever  so  learned,  will 
never  be  read ;  it  will  only  be  consulted,  like  a  law- 
book,  or  Mosheim's  "  Commentaries."  We  wish  life  in 
history,  and  it  is  for  the  life  that  the  writings  of  Livy  and 
Tacitus  will  be  perpetuated.  Voltaire  and  Schiller  have 
no  great  merit  as  historians,  in  a  technical  sense,  but  the 
"Life  of  Charles  XII."  and  the  "Thirty  Years'  War" 
are  still  classics.  Neander  has  written  one  of  the  most 
searching  and  recondite  histories  of  modern  times,  but  it  is 
too  dry,  too  deficient  in  art,  to  be  cherished,  and  may  pass 
away,  like  the  voluminous  writings  of  Varro,  the  most 
learned  of  the  Romans.  It  is  the  art  which  is  immortal  in 
a  book,  not  the  knowledge,  or  even  the  thoughts.  What 
keeps  alive  the  "  Provincial  Letters  "  ?  It  is  the  style,  the 
irony,  the  elegance.  It  is  the  exquisite  delineation  of  char 
acter,  the  moral  wisdom,  the  purity  and  force  of  language, 
the  artistic  arrangement,  and  the  lively  and  interesting 
narratives,  appealing  to  all  minds,  like  the  "  Arabian 
Nights,"  or  Froissart's  "  Chronicles,"  which  give  immor 
tality  to  the  classic  authors  of  antiquity.  We  will  not  let 
them  perish,  because  they  amuse  us,  and  inspire  us.  Livy 
doubtless  was  too  ambitious  in  aspiring  to  write  accurately 
the  whole  history  of  his  country.  He  would  have  been 
wiser  had  he  confined  himself  to  a  particular  epoch,  of 
which  he  was  conversant,  like  Tacitus  and  Thucydides. 
But  it  is  taking  a  narrow  view  of  history  to  make  all 
writers  after  the  same  pattern,  even  as  it  would  be  bigoted 
to  make  all  Christians  belong  to  the  same  sect.  Some  will 
be  remarkable  for  style,  others  for  learning,  and  others 
again  for  moral  and  philosophical  wisdom.  Some  will  be 
minute,  and  others  generalizing.  Some  dig  out  a  multi 
plicity  of  facts  without  apparent  object,  and  others  induce 


CHAP,  vii.]       Superiority  of  Ancient  Historians.  291 

from  those  facts.  Some  will  make  essays,  and  others 
chronicles.  We  have  need  of  all  styles  and  all  kinds  of 
excellence.  A  great  and  original  thinker  may  not  have 
the  time  or  opportunity  or  taste  for  a  minute  and  search 
ing  criticism  of  original  authorities  ;  but  he  may  be  able 
to  generalize  previously  established  facts,  so  as  to  draw 
most  valuable  moral  instruction.  History  is  a  boundless 
field  of  inquiry.  No  man  can  master  it,  in  all  its  depart 
ments  and  periods.  What  he  gains  in  minute  details,  he 
is  apt  to  lose  in  generalization.  If  he  attempts  to  embody 
too  much  learning,  he  may  be  deficient  in  originality ;  if 
he  would  say  every  thing,  he  is  apt  to  be  dry  ;  if  he  elabo 
rates  too  much,  he  loses  life.  Society,  too,  requires  differ 
ent  kinds  and  styles  of  history,  —  history  for  students,  his 
tory  for  ladies,  histories  for  old  men,  histories  for  young 
men,  histories  to  amuse,  and  histories  to  instruct.  If  all 
men  were  to  write  history  according  to  Dr.  Arnold's  views, 
then  we  should  have  histories  of  interest  only  to  classical 
scholars.  A  fellow  of  Christ  Church  may  demand  author 
ities,  even  if  he  never  consults  one  of  them,  but  a  member 
of  Congress  may  wish  to  see  learning  embodied  in  the  text, 
and  animated  by  genius,  after  the  fashion  of  the  ancient 
historians,  who  never  quoted  their  sources  of  knowledge, 
and  who  were  valued  for  the  richness  of  thoughts  and 

O 

artistic  beauty  of  style.  The  ages  in  which  they  flourished, 
attached  no  value  to  pedantic  displays  of  labor,  or  evi 
dences  of  learning  paraded  in  foot-notes. 

Thus  the  great  historians  whom  I  have  alluded  to,  both 
Greek  and  Latin,  have  few  equals  and  no  supe-   Greatness  of 

,  ,   .  i'i  the  ancient 

riors,  in  our  own  times,  in  those  things  which  are  historians. 
most  to  be  admired.  They  were  not  pedants,  but  men  of 
immense  genius  and  learning,  who  blended  the  profoundest 
principles  of  moral  wisdom  with  the  most  fascinating  nar 
ratives,  men  universally  popular  among  learned  and  un 
learned,  and  men  who  were  great  artists  in  style,  and 
masters  of  the  language  in  which  they  wrote.  We  claim 


292  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII 

a  superiority  to  them,  because  we  are  more  recondite  and 
critical ;  but  the  decline  of  Roman  literature  can  be  dated 
to  times  when  commentaries  became  the  fashion.     We  im 
prove  on  commentaries.     They  are  chiefly  confined  to  bib 
lical  questions.      We  write  dictionaries  and  encyclopedias. 
In  this  respect  we  are  superior  to  the  ancients.     Our  latest 
fashion  of  histories  makes  them  very  long,  and  very  un 
certain,    containing    much    irrelevant    matter,    and   more 
remarkable  for  learning  than  for  genius,  or  elegance  of 
diction.     Yet  Macaulay,  Prescott,  and  Motley  have  few 
equals  among  the  ancients  in  interest  or  artistic  beauty. 
Rome  can  boast  of  no  great  historian  after  Tacitus,  who 
should  have  belonged  to  the  Ciceronian  epoch. 
Suetonius,  born  about  the  year  A.  D.  70,  shortly 
after  Nero's  death,  was  rather  a  biographer  than  historian. 
Nor  as  a  biographer  does  he  take  a  high  rank.    His  "  Lives 
of  the  Caesars,"  like  Diogenes  Laertius'  "  Lives  of  the  Phil 
osophers,"  are  rather  anecdotical  than  historical.     L.  A. 
Floras,  who  flourished   during    the  reign  of  Trajan,  has 
left  a  series  of  sketches  of  the  different  wars  from  the  days 
of  Romulus  to  those  of  Augustus.     Frontinus  epitomized 
Marcei-         tne    ^arge    histories  of  Pompeius.      Marcellinus 
iinus.  wrote   a  history   from  Nerva  to  Yalens,  and  is 

often  quoted  by  Gibbon.  But  none  wrote  who  should  be 
adduced  as  examples  of  the  triumph  of  genius,  except  Sal- 
lust,  Caesar,  Livy,  and  Tacitus. 

There  is  another  field  of  prose  compositions  in  which  the 
Ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  gained  great  distinction,  and 
orators.  proved  themselves  equal  to  any  nation  of  modern 
times,  and  this  was  that  of  eloquence.  It  is  true  we  have 
not  a  rich  collection  of  ancient  speeches.  But  we  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  both  Greeks  and  Romans 
were  most  severely  trained  in  the  art  of  public  speaking, 
and  that  forensic  eloquence  was  highly  prized  and  munifi 
cently  rewarded.  It  commenced  with  democratic  institu 
tions,  and  flourished  as  long  as  the  people  were  a  great 


CHAP,  vii.]  Ancient  Orators.  293 

power  in  the  state.     It  declined  whenever  and  as  soon  as 
tyrants  bore   rule.     Eloquence  and  liberty  flourished  to 
gether  ;  nor  can  there  be  eloquence  when  there  is  not  free 
dom  of  debate.     In  the  fifth  century  before  Christ  —  the 
first  century  of  democracy  —  great  orators  arose,  for  with 
out  the  power  and  the  opportunity  of  defending  himself 
against  accusation,  no  man  could  hold  an  ascendent  posi 
tion.    Socrates  insisted  upon  the  gift  of  oratory  to  a  general 
in  the  army,1  as  well  as  to  a  leader  in  political  life.     In 
Athens  the  courts  of  justice  were  numerous,  and  those  who 
could  not  defend  themselves  were  obliged  to  secure  the 
services  of  those  who  were  trained   in   the  use  of  public 
speaking.    Tims  the  lawyers  arose,  among  whom  eloquence 
has  been  more  in  demand,  and  more  richly  paid  Ancient 
than    in    any   other   class,   certainly    of    ancient  eloquei 
times.     Rhetoric  became  connected  with  dialectics,  and  in 
Greece,  Sicily,  and  Italy,  both  were  most  extensively  cul 
tivated.     Empedocles  was  distinguished  as  much  for  rhet 
oric  as  for  philosophy.     It  was  not,  however,  in  the  courts 
of  law  that  eloquence  displayed  the  greatest  fire  and  pas 
sion,  but  in  political  assemblies.     These  could  only  coexist 
with  liberty  ;  and  a  democracy  was  more  favorable  than 
an    aristocracy  to  a   large  concourse  of  citizens.     In  the 
Grecian  republics,  eloquence  as  an  art,  may  be  said  to  have 
been  born.     It  was  nursed  and  fed  by  political  agitations  ; 
by  the  strife  of  parties.     It  arose  from  appeals  to  the  peo 
ple  as  a  source  of  power ;  and,  when  the  people  were  not 
cultivated,    it   appealed    chiefly    to    popular    passions    and 
prejudices.     When   they  were   enlightened,  it  appealed  to 
interests. 

It  was  in  Athens,  where  there  existed  the  purest  form 
of  democratic  institutions,  that  eloquence  rose  to  the  loftiest 
heights  in  the  ancient  world,  so  far  as  eloquence  appeals  to 
popular  passions.  Pericles,  the  greatest  states- 
man  of  Greece,  was  celebrated  for  his  eloquence, 

1  Xen.  J/e/n.,  iii.  3,  11. 


294  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  vn. 

although  no  specimens  remain  to  us.  It  was  conceded  by 
the  ancient  authors,  that  his  oratory  was  of  the  highest 
kind,  and  the  epithet  of  Olympian  was  given  him  as  carry 
ing  the  weapons  of  Zeus  upon  his  tongue.1  His  voice  was 
sweet,  and  his  utterance  distinct  and  rapid.  Pisistratus 
was  also  famous  for  his  eloquence,  although  he  was  a 
usurper  and  a  tyrant.  Isocrates  2  was  a  professed  rhetori 
cian,  and  endeavored  to  base  it  upon  sound  moral  princi 
ples,  and  rescue  it  from  the  influence  of  the  Sophists.  He 
was  the  great  teacher  of  the  most  eminent  statesmen  of 
his  day.  Twenty-one  of  his  orations  have  come  down  to 
us,  and  they  are  excessively  polished  and  elaborated  ;  but 
they  were  written  to  be  read  ;  they  were  not  extemporary. 
His  language  is  the  purest  and  most  refined  Attic  dialect. 
Lysias 3  was  a  fertile  writer  of  orations  also,  and  he  is 
reputed  to  have  produced  as  many  as  four  hundred  and 
twenty-five.  Of  these  only  thirty-five  are  extant.  They 
are  characterized  by  peculiar  gracefulness  and  elegance, 
which  did  not  interfere  with  strength.  So  able  were  these 
orations,  that  only  two  were  unsuccessful.  They  were  so 
pure  that  they  were  regarded  as  the  best  canon  of  the 
Attic  idiom.4 

But  all  the   orators    of  Greece  —  and  Greece   was  the 

Demos  ^an(^  °^  orators  —  gave  wav  to  Demosthenes,  born 
thenes.  B  c  £§5^  jje  received  a  good  education,  and  is 
said  to  have  been  instructed  in  philosophy  by  Plato,  and  in 
eloquence  by  Isocrates.  But  it  is  more  probable  that  he 
privately  prepared  himself  for  his  brilliant  career.  As  soon 
as  he  attained  his  majority,  he  brought  suits  against  the  men 
whom  his  father  had  appointed  his  guardians  for  their  waste 
of  property,  and  was,  after  two  years,  successful,  conduct 
ing  the  prosecution  himself.  It  was  not  until  the  age  of 
thirty  that  he  appeared  as  a  speaker  in  the  public  assembly 
on  political  matters,  and  he  enjoyed  universal  respect,  and 

1  Plutarch;  Cic.  De  Oral.,  in.  34;  Quin.,  x.  i.  §  82;  Plat.  Phed.,  p.  262. 

2  Born  436  B  c.  8  Born  B.  c.  458.  4  Dion.  Lys.,  ii.  3. 


CHAP,  vii.]  Demosthenes.  295 

became  one  of  the  leading  statesmen  of  Athens,  and  hence 
forth  he  took  an  active  part  in  every  question  that  con 
cerned  the  state.  He  especially  distinguished  himself  in 
his  speeches  against  Macedonian  aggrandizements,  and  his 
Philippics  are,  perhaps,  the  most  brilliant  of  his  orations. 
But  the  cause  which  he  advocated  was  unfortunate.  The 
battle  of  Cheronea,  B.  c.  338,  put  an  end  to  the  independ 
ence  of  Greece,  and  Philip  of  Macedon  was  all-powerful. 
For  this  catastrophe  Demosthenes  was  somewhat  responsi 
ble,  but  his  motives  were  pure  and  his  patriotism  lofty,  and 
he  retained  the  confidence  of  his  countrymen.  Accused  by 
^Eschines,  he  delivered  his  famous  Oration  on  the  Crown. 
Afterwards,  during  the  supremacy  of  Alexander,  he  was 
again  accused,  and  suffered  exile.  Recalled  from  exile,  on 
the  death  of  Alexander,  he  roused  himself  for  the  deliver 
ance  of  Greece,  without  success,  and,  hunted  by  his  enemies, 
he  took  poison  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age,  having  vain 
ly  contended  for  the  freedom  of  his  country?  —  one  of  the 
noblest  spirits  of  antiquity,  spotless  in  his  public  career,  and 
lofty  in  his  private  life.  As  an  orator,  he  has  not  probably 
been  equaled  by  any  man  of  any  country.  By  his  con 
temporaries  he  was  regarded  as  faultless  as  a  public  speaker, 
and  when  it  is  remembered  that  he  struggled  against 
physical  difficulties  which,  in  the  early  part  of  his  career, 
would  have  utterly  discouraged  any  ordinary  man,  we  feel 
that  he  deserves  the  highest  commendation.  He  never 
spoke  without  preparation,  and  most  of  his  orations  were 
severely  elaborated.  He  never  trusted  to  the  impulse  of 
the  occasion.  And  all  his  orations  exhibit  him  as  a  pure 
and  noble  patriot,  and  are  full  of  the  loftiest  sentiments. 
He  was  a  great  artist,  and  his  oratorical  successes  were 
greatly  owing  to  the  arrangement  of  his  speeches  and  the 
application  of  the  strongest  arguments  in  their  proper 
places.  Added  to  this  moral  and  intellectual  superiority 
was  the  "  magic  power  of  his  language,  majestic  and  simple 
at  the  same  time,  rich  yet  not  bombastic,  strange  and  yet 


296  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

familiar,  solemn  without  being  ornamented,  grave  and  yet 
pleasing,  concise  and  yet  fluent,  sweet  and  yet  impressive, 
which  altogether  carried  away  the  minds  of  his  hearers."  a 
His  orations  were  most  highly  prized  by  the  ancients,  who 
wrote  innumerable  commentaries  on  them,  but  most  of 
these  criticisms  are  lost.  Sixty,  however,  of  these  great 
productions  of  genius  have  come  down  to  us,  and  are  con 
tained  in  the  various  collections  of  the  Attic  orators  by  Al 
dus,  Stephens,  Taylor,  Reiske,  Dukas,  Bekker,  Dobson, 
and  Sauppe.  Demosthenes,  like  other  orators,  first  became 
known  as  the  composer  of  speeches  for  litigants ;  but  his 
great  fame  was  based  on  the  orations  he  pronounced  in 
great  political  emergencies.  His  rival  was  JEschines,  but 
he  was  vastly  inferior  to  Demosthenes,  although  bold,  vigor 
ous,  and  brilliant.  Indeed,  the  opinions  of  mankind,  for 
two  thousand  years,  have  been  unanimous  in  ascribing  to 
Demosthenes  the  highest  position  as  an  orator  of  all  the 
men  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  David  Hume  says  of 
him,  "  that,  could  his  manner  be  copied,  its  success  would  be 
infallible  over  a  modern  audience."  "  It  is  rapid  harmony 
exactly  adjusted  to  the  sense.  It  is  vehement  reasoning, 
without  any  appearance  of  art.  It  is  disdain,  anger,  bold 
ness,  freedom  involved  in  a  continual  stream  of  argument ; 
so  that,  of  all  human  productions,  his  orations  present  to 
us  the  models  which  approach  the  nearest  to  perfection."  2 
It  is  probable  that  the  Romans  were  behind  the  Athe- 
Roman  niaiis  in  all  the  arts  of  rhetoric  ;  and  yet  in  the 
days  of  the  republic  celebrated  orators  arose, 
called  out  by  the  practice  of  the  law  arid  political  meetings. 
It  was,  in  fact,  in  forensic  eloquence  that  Latin  prose  first 
appears  as  a  cultivated  language  ;  for  the  forum  was  to  the 
Romans  what  libraries  are  to  us.  And  the  art  of  public 
speaking  was  very  early  developed.  Cato,  Laelius,  Carbo, 
and  the  Gracchi  are  said  to  have  been  majestic  and  har- 

1  Leonhard  Schmitz. 

a  fJisstrtt.it tun  of  Lord  Brougham  on  the  Eloquence  of  the  Ancients. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


Cicero.  297 


monious  in  speech.  Their  merits  were  eclipsed  by  Anto- 
nius,  Crassus,  Cotta,  Sulpitius,  and  Hortensius.  The  last 
had  a  very  brilliant  career  as  an  orator,  although  his  ora 
tions  were  too  florid  to  be  read.  Caesar  was  also  distin 
guished  for  his  eloquence,  the  characteristics  of  which  were 
force  and  purity.  Cselius  was  noted  for  lofty  sentiment ; 
Brutus  for  philosophical  wisdom  ;  Callidus  for  a  delicate 
and  harmonious  style,  and  Calvus  for  sententious  force. 

But   all   the   Roman   orators   yielded  to  Cicero,   as  the 
Greeks   did   to  Demosthenes.     These  two  men        ^^ 
are   always    coupled    together  when    allusion    is 
made  to  eloquence.     They  were  preeminent  in  the  ancient 
world,  and  have  never  been  equaled  in  the  modern. 

Cicero  was  not  probably  equal  to  his  great  Grecian  rival 
in  vehemence,  in  force,  in  fiery  argument,  which  swept 
every  thing  away  before  him  ;  and  he  was  not  probably 
equal  to  him  in  original  genius ;  but  he  was  his  superior  in 
learning,  in  culture,  and  in  breadth.1  He  distinguished 
himself  very  early  as  an  advocate  ;  but  his  first  great  pub 
lic  effort  was  in  the  prosecution  of  Verres  for  corruption. 
Although  defended  by  Hortensius,  and  the  whole  influence 
of  the  Metelli  and  other  powerful  families,  Cicero  gained 
his  cause,  —  more  fortunate  than  Burke  in  his  prosecution 
of  Warren  Hastings,  who  was  also  sustained  by  powerful 
interests  and  families.  Burke  also  resembled  Cicero  in  his 
peculiarities  and  in  his  fortunes  more  than  any  modern 
orator.  His  speech  on  the  Manilian  law,  when  he  ap 
peared  as  a  political  orator,  greatly  contributed  to  his  pop 
ularity.  I  need  not  describe  his  memorable  career ;  his 
successive  election  to  all  the  highest  offices  of  state,  his  de 
tection  of  Catiline's  conspiracy,  his  opposition  to  turbulent 
and  ambitious  partisans,  his  alienations  and  friendships, 
his  brilliant  career  as  a  statesman,  his  misfortunes  and 
sorrows,  his  exile  and  recall,  his  splendid  services  to  the 
state,  his  greatness  and  his  defects,  his  virtues  and  weak- 

1  Born  B.  c.  106. 


298  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.VII. 

nesses,  his  triumphs  and  martyrdom.  These  are  foreign  to 
my  purpose.  No  man  of  heathen  antiquity  is  better  known 
to  us,  and  no  man,  by  pure  genius,  ever  won  more  glorious 
laurels.  His  life  and  labors  are  immortal.  His  virtues  and 
services  are  embalmed  in  the  heart  of  the  world.  Few  men 
ever  performed  greater  literary  labors,  and  in  most  of  its 
departments.  Next  to  Aristotle,  he  was  the  most  learned 
man  of  antiquity,  but  performed  more  varied  labors  than 
he,  since  he  was  not  only  great  as  a  writer  and  speaker, 
but  as  a  statesman,  and  was  the  most  conspicuous  man  in 
Rome  after  Pompey  and  Caesar.  He  may  not  have  had 
the  moral  greatness  of  Socrates,  nor  the  philosophical 
genius  of  Plato,  nor  the  overpowering  eloquence  of  De 
mosthenes,  but  he  was  a  master  of  all  the  wisdom  of 
antiquity.  Even  civil  law,  the  great  science  of  the  Ro 
mans,  became  interesting  in  his  hands,  and  is  divested  of 
its  dryness  and  technicality.  He  popularized  history,  and 
paid  honor  to  all  art,  even  to  the  stage.  He  made  the  Ro 
mans  conversant  with  the  philosophy  of  Greece,  and  sys 
tematized  the  various  speculations.  He  may  not  have 
added  to  the  science,  but  no  Roman,  after  him,  understood 
so  well  the  practical  bearing  of  all  the  various  systems. 
His  glory  is  purely  intellectual,  and  it  was  by  pure  genius 
that  he  rose  to  his  exalted  position  and  influence. 

But  it  was  in  forensic  eloquence  that  he  was  preeminent, 
and  in  which  he  had  but  one  equal  in  ancient  times.  Ro 
man  eloquence  culminated  in  him.  He  composed  about 
eighty  orations,  of  which  fifty-nine  are  preserved.  Some 
were  delivered  from  the  rostrum  to  the  people,  and  some 
in  the  Senate.  Some  were  mere  philippics,  as  savage  in 
denunciation  as  those  of  Demosthenes.  Some  were  lauda 
tory  ;  some  were  judicial ;  but  all  were  severely  logical,  full 
of  historical  allusion,  profound  in  philosophical  wisdom,  and 
pervaded  with  the  spirit  of  patriotism.  "  He  goes  round 
and  round  his  object,  surveys  it  in  every  light,  examines 
it  in  all  its  parts,  retires  and  then  advances,  compares  and 


CHAP,  vii.]  Cicero.  299 

contrasts  it,  illustrates,  confirms,  and  enforces  it,  till  the 
hearer  feels  ashamed  of  doubting  a  position  which  seems 
built  on  a  foundation  so  strictly  argumentative.  And 
having  established  his  case,  he  opens  upon  his  opponent  a 
discharge  of  raillery  so  delicate  and  good  natured  that  it  is 
impossible  for  the  latter  to  maintain  his  ground  against  it ; 
or,  when  the  subject  is  too  grave,  he  colors  his  exaggera 
tions  with  all  the  bitterness  of  ironv  and  vehemence  of 

•/ 

passion.  But  the  appeal  to  the  gentler  emotions  is  reserved 
for  the  close  of  the  oration,  as  in  the  defense  of  Cluentius, 
CaBlius,  Milo,  and  Flaccus  ;  the  most  striking  instances  of 
which  are  the  poetical  bursts  of  feeling  with  which  he  ad 
dresses  his  client,  Plaucius,  and  his  picture  of  the  desolate 
condition  of  the  vestal  Fonteia,  should  her  brother  be  con 
demned.  At  other  times  his  peroration  contains  more 
heroic  and  elevated  sentiments,  as  in  the  invocation  of  the 
Alban  Altars,  and  in  his  defense  of  Sextius,  and  that  on 
liberty  at  the  close  of  the  third  Philippic."  1 

Critics  have  uniformly  admired  his  style  as  peculiarly 
suited  to  the  Latin  language,  which,  being  scanty  and  un 
musical,  requires  more  redundancy  than  the  Greek.  The 
simplicity  of  the  Attic  writers  would  make  Latin  composi 
tion  bold  and  tame.  To  be  perspicuous,  the  Latin  must  be 
full.  Thus  Arnold  thinks  that  what  Tacitus  gained  in 
energy  he  lost  in  elegance  and  perspicuity.  But  Cicero, 
dealing  with  a  barren  and  unphilosophical  language,  en 
riched  it  with  circumlocutions  and  metaphors,  while  he 
formed  it  of  harsh  and  uncouth  expressions,  and  thus  be 
came  the  greatest  master  of  composition  the  world  has 
seen.  He  was  a  great  artist,  making  use  of  his  scanty 
materials  to  the  best  effect  ;  and  since  he  could  not  attain 
the  elegance  of  the  Greeks,  he  sought  to  excel  them  in 
vigor.  He  had  absolute  control  over  the  resources  of 
his  vernacular  tongue,  and  not  only  unrivaled  skill  in 
composition,  but  tact  and  judgment.  Thus  he  was  gener- 

1  Newman,  Hist.  Rom.  Lit.,  p.  305. 


300  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP,  vil 

ally  successful,  in  spite  of  the  venality  and  corruption  of 
the  times.  The  courts  of  justice  were  the  scene  of  his 
earliest  triumphs  ;  nor  did  he  speak  from  the  rostra  until  he 
was  praetor  on  mere  political  questions,  as  in  reference  to 
the  Manilian  and  Agrarian  laws.  It  is  in  his  •political  dis 
courses  that  he  rises  to  the  highest  ranks.  In  his  speeches 
against  Verres,  Catiline,  and  Antony,  he  kindles  in  his 
countrymen  lofty  feelings  for  the  honor  of  his  country,  and 
abhorrence  of  tyranny  and  corruption.  Indeed,  he  hated 
bloodshed,  injustice,  and  strife,  and  beheld  the  downfall  of 
liberty  with  indescribable  sorrow. 

Cicero  held  a  very  exalted  position  as  a  philosophical 
writer  and  critic  ;  but  we  defer  what  we  have  to  say  on 
this  point  until  we  speak  of  the  philosophy  of  the  ancients. 
Upon  eloquence  his  main  efforts  were,  however,  directed, 
and  eloquence  was  the  most  perfect  fruit  of  his  talents. 
Nor  can  we  here  speak  of  Cicero  as  a  man.  He  has  his 
admirers  and  detractors.  He  had  great  faults  and  weak 
nesses  as  well  as  virtues.  He  was  egotistical,  vain,  and 
vacillating.  But  he  was  industrious,  amiable,  witty,  and 
public  spirited.  In  his  official  position  he  was  incorruptible. 
He  was  no  soldier,  but  he  had  a  greater  than  a  warrior's 
excellence.  In  spite  of  his  faults,  his  name  is  one  of  the 
brightest  of  the  ancients.  His  integrity  was  never  im 
peached,  even  in  an  age  of  unparalleled  corruption,  and 
he  was  pure  in  morals.  He  was  free  from  rancor  and 
jealousy,  was  true  in  his  friendships,  and  indulgent  to  his 
dependents.1 

Thus  in  oratory,  as  in  history,  the  ancients  can  boast  of 
most  illustrious  examples,  never  even  equaled.  Still,  we 
cannot  tell  the  comparative  merits  of  the  great  classical 

1  Professor  Ramsay,  of  Glasgow,  has  written  a  most  admirable  article  on 
Cicero  in  Smith's  Dictionary.  It  is  very  full  and  impartial.  Cicero's  own  writ- 
ings  are  the  best  commentary  on  his  life.  Plutarch  has  afforded  much  anecdote. 
Forsythe  is  the  last  work  of  erudition.  The  critics  sneer  at  Middleton's  Life  of 
Cicero;  but  it  has  lasted  one  hundred  years.  It  is,  perhaps,  too  eulogistic.  Dru- 
mann  is  said  to  have  most  completely  exhausted  his  subject  in  his  Geschichte 
Horns. 


CHAP.  VIL]  Varro.  301 

orators  of  antiquity,  with  the  more  distinguished  of  our 
times.  Only  Mirabeau,  Pitt,  Fox,  Burke,  Brougham, 
Webster,  and  Clay,  can  even  be  compared  with  them.  In 
power  of  moving  the  people,  some  of  our  modern  reform 
ers  and  agitators  may  be  mentioned  favorably  ;  but  their 
harangues  are  comparatively  tame  when  read. 

In  philosophy,  the  Greeks  and  Romans  distinguished 
themselves  more  than  even  in  poetry,  or  history,  or  elo 
quence.  Their  speculations  pertained  to  the  loftiest  sub 
jects  which  ever  tasked  the  intellect  of  man.  But  this 
great  department  deserves  a  separate  chapter.  There  were 
respectable  writers,  too,  in  various  other  departments  of 
literature,  but  no  very  great  names  whose  writings  have 
descended  to  us.  Contemporaries  had  an  exalted  opinion 
of  Varro,  who  was  considered  the  most  learned 
of  the  Romans,  as  well  as  their  most  voluminous 
author.  He  was  born  ten  years  before  Cicero,  and  he  is 
highly  commended  by  Augustine.1  He  was  entirely  de 
voted  to  literature,  took  no  interest  in  passing  events, 
and  lived  to  a  good  old  age.  St.  Augustine  says  of  him, 
"that  he  wrote  so  much  that  one  wonders  how  he  had 
time  to  read ;  and  that  he  read  so  much,  we  are  astonished 
how  he  found  time  to  write."  He  composed  four  hundred 
and  ninety  books.  Of  these  only  one  has  descended  to  us 
entire  — "  De  Re  Rustica  " —  written  at  the  age  of  eighty  ; 
but  it  is  the  best  treatise  which  has  come  down  from  an 
tiquity  on  ancient  agriculture.  We  have  parts  of  his  other 
books,  and  we  know  of  books  which  have  entirely  per 
ished  which,  for  their  information,  would  be  invaluable  ; 
especially  his  "  Divine  Antiquities,"  in  sixteen  books  —  his 
great  work,  from  which  St.  Augustine  drew  his  materials 
for  his  "  City  of  God."  He  wrote  treatises  on  language, 
on  the  poets,  on  philosophy,  on  geography,  and  various 
other  subjects.  He  wrote  satire  and  criticism.  But  al 
though  his  writings  were  learned,  his  style  was  so  bad  that 

1  Born  B.  c.  116;  Civ.  Dei.,  vi.  2. 


302  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

the  ages  have  failed  to  preserve  him.  It  is  singular  that 
the  truly  immortal  books  are  most  valued  for  their  artistic 
excellences.  No  man,  however  great  his  genius,  can 
afford  to  be  dull.  Style  is  to  written  composition,  what 
delivery  is  to  a  public  speaker.  John  Foster,  one  of  the 
finest  intellects  of  the  last  generation,  preached  to  a 
"  handful  "  of  hearers,  while  "  Satan  "  Montgomery  drew 
ecstatic  crowds.  Nobody  goes  to  hear  the  man  of  thoughts, 
every  body  to  hear  the  man  of  words,  being  repelled  or 
attracted  by  manner. 

Seneca  was  another  great  writer  among  the  Romans, 
but  he  belongs  to  the  domain  of  philosophy, 
although  it  is  his  ethical  works  which  have  given 
him  immortality,  as  may  be  truly  said  of  Socrates  and 
Epictetus,  although  they  are  usually  classed  among  the 
philosophers.  He  was  a  Spaniard,  and  was  born  a  few 
years  before  the  Christian  era,  was  a  lawyer  and  a  rhetori 
cian,  a  teacher  and  minister  of  Nero.  It  was  his  misfor 
tune  to  know  one  of  the  most  detestable  princes  that  ever 
scandalized  humanity,  and  it  is  not  to  his  credit  to  have 
accumulated,  in  four  years,  one  of  the  largest  fortunes  in 
Rome,  while  serving  such  a  master.  But  since  he  lived  to 
experience  his  ingratitude,  he  is  more  commonly  regarded 
as  a  martyr.  Had  he  lived  in  the  republican  period,  he 
would  have  been  a  great  orator.  He  wrote  voluminously 
on  many  subjects,  and  was  devoted  to  a  literary  life.  He 
rejected  the  superstitions  of  his  country,  and  looked  upon 
the  ritualism  of  religion  as  a  mere  fashion  ;  but  his  religion 
was  a  mere  deism,  and  he  dishonored  his  own  virtues  by  a 
compliance  with  the  vices  of  others.  He  saw  much  of 
life,  and  died  at  fifty-three.  What  is  remarkable  in  his 
writings,  which  are  clear  but  labored,  is,  that  under  pagan 
influences  and  imperial  tyranny,  he  should  have  presented 
such  lofty  moral  truth  ;  and  it  is  a  mark  of  almost  tran 
scendent  talent  that  he  should,  unaided  by  Christianity, 
have  soared  so  high  in  the  realm  of  ethical  inquiry.  Nor 


CHAP,  vii.]  Quintilian.  —  Lucian.  303 

is  it  easy  to  find  any  modern  author  who  has  treated  great 
questions  in  so  attractive  a  way. 

Quintilian  is  a  Latin  classic,  and  belonged  to  the  class 
of  rhetoricians,  and  should  have  been  mentioned  Quintnian 
among    the    orators,    like    Lysias    the    Greek,   a 
teacher,   however,   of  eloquence,   rather  than    an  orator. 
He  was  born  A.  D.  40,  and  taught  the  younger  Pliny,  also 
two  nephews  of  Domitian,  receiving  a  regular  salary  from 
the  imperial  treasury.     His  great  work  is  a  complete  sys 
tem  of  rhetoric.      "  Imtitutiones  Oratorice  "  is  one   of  the 
clearest  and  fullest  of  all  rhetorical  manuals  ever  written 
in  any  language,  although,  as  a  literary  production,  inferior 
to  the  "  De  Oratore  "  of  Cicero.     It  is  very  practical  and 
sensible,  and  a  complete  compendium  of  every  topic  likely 
to  be  useful  in  the  education  of  an  aspirant  for  the  honors 
of  eloquence.    In  systematic  arrangement,  it  falls  short  of  a 
similar  work  by  Aristotle  ;  but  it  is  celebrated  for  its  sound 
judgment  and  keen  discrimination,  showing  great  reading 
and   reflection.     He   should   be  viewed   as  a  critic  rather 
than  as  a  rhetorician,  since  he  entered  into  the  merits  and 
defects  of  the  great  masters  of  Greek  and  Roman  litera 
ture.     In  his  peculiar  province  he  has  had  no  superior. 
Like  Cicero,  or  Demosthenes,  or  Plato,  or  Thucydides,  or 
Tacitus,  he  would  be  a  great  man  if  he  lived  in  our  times, 
and  could  proudly  challenge  the  modern  world  to  produce 
a  better  teacher  than  he  in  the  art  of  public  speaking. 

There  are  other  writers  of  immense  fame,  who  do  not 
represent  any  particular  class  in  the  field  of  literature, 
which  can  be  compared  with  the  modern.  But  I  can  only 
draw  attention  to  Lucian,  a  witty  and  voluminous  ^^ 
Greek  author,  who  lived  in  the  reign  of  Corn- 
modus,  wrote  rhetorical,  critical,  and  biographical  works, 
and  even  romances  which  have  given  hints  to  modern  au 
thors.  But  his  fame  rests  on  his  "  Dialogues,"  intended  to 
ridicule  the  heathen  philosophy  and  religion,  and  which 
show  him  to  have  been  one  of  the  great  masters  of  ancient 
satire  and  mockery.  His  style  of  dialogue  —  a  combina- 


304  Roman  Literature.  [CHAP.  VII. 

tion  of  Plato  and  Aristophanes  —  is  not  much  used  by 
modern  writers,  and  his  peculiar  kind  of  ridicule  is  reserved 
now  for  the  stage.  Yet  he  cannot  be  called  a  writer  of 
comedy,  like  Moliere.  He  resembles  Rabelais  and  Swift 
more  than  any  other  modern  writers,  and  has  their  indig 
nant  wit,  indecent  jokes,  and  pungent  sarcasms.  He  paints, 
like  Juvenal,  the  vices  and  follies  of  his  time,  and  exposes 
the  hypocrisy  that  reigns  in  the  high  places  of  fashion  and 
power.  His  dialogues  have  been  imitated  by  Fontanelle 
and  Lord  Lyttleton,  but  they  do  not  possess  his  humor  or 
pungency.  Lucian  does  not  grapple  with  great  truths,  but 
contents  himself  in  ridiculing  those  who  have  proclaimed 
them  ;  and,  in  his  cold  cynicism,  depreciates  human  knowl 
edge,  and  all  the  great  moral  teachers  of  mankind.  He  is 
even  shallow  and  flippant  upon  Socrates.  But  he  was  well 
read  in  human  nature,  and  superficially  acquainted  with  all 
the  learning  of  antiquity.  In  wit  and  sarcasm,  he  may  be 
compared  with  Voltaire,  and  his  end  was  the  same,  to 
demolish  and  pull  down,  without  substituting  any  thing  in 
its  stead.  His  skepticism  was  universal,  and  extended 
to  religion,  to  philosophy,  and  to  every  thing  venerated 
and  ancient.  His  purity  of  style  was  admired  by  Erasmus, 
and  he  has  been  translated  into  most  European  languages. 
The  best  English  version  is  rendered  by  Dr.  Franklin, 
London,  2  vols.  4to.  In  strong  contrast  to  the  "  Dialogues  " 
is  the  "  City  of  God,''  by  Saint  Augustine,  in  which  he 
demolishes  with  keener  ridicule  all  the  gods  of  antiquity, 
but  substitutes  instead  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God. 

Thus  the  Romans,  as  well  as  Greeks,  produced  works 
in  all  departments  of  literature  which  will  bear  compari 
son  with  the  masterpieces  of  modern  times.  And  where 
would  have  been  the  literature  of  the  early  Church,  or  of 
modern  nations,  had  not  the  great  original  writers  of 
Athens  and  Rome  been  our  schoolmasters  ?  And  when 
we  further  remember  that  their  glorious  literature  was 
created  by  native  genius,  without  the  aid  of  Christianity, 
we  are  filled  with  amazement,  and  may  almost  be  excused 


CHAP,  vii.]  Pagan  Literature  and  Art.  305 

if  we  deify  the  reason  of  man.  At  least  we  are  assured 
that  literature  as  well  as  art  may  flourish  under  pagan  in 
fluences,  and  that  Christianity  has  a  higher  mission  than 
the  culture  of  the  mind.  Religious  skepticism  cannot  be 
disarmed  if  we  appeal  to  Christianity  as  the  test  of  intel 
lectual  culture.  The  realm  of  reason  has  no  fairer  fields 
than  those  which  are  adorned  by  pagan  art.  Nor  have 
greater  triumphs  of  intellect  been  witnessed  in  these,  our 
Christian  times,  than  among  that  class  which  is  the  least 
influenced  by  Christian  ideas.  Some  of  the  proudest 
trophies  of  genius  have  been  won  by  infidels,  or  by  men 
stigmatized  as  such.  Witness  Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Diderot, 
Hegel,  Fichte,  Gibbon,  Hume,  Buckle.  And  then  how 
many  great  works  are  written  without  the  inspiration  01 
the  spirit  of  a  living  Christianity  !  How  little  Bulwer,  or 
Byron,  or  Dumas,  or  Goethe  owe,  apparently,  to  Chris 
tian  teachings  !  Is  Emerson  superior  to  Epictetus,  in  an 
ethical  point  of  view  ?  Was  Franklin  a  great  philosopher, 
or  Jefferson  a  great  statesman,  because  they  were  sur 
rounded  by  Christian  examples  ?  May  there  not  be  the 
greatest  practical  infidelity,  with  the  most  artistic  beauty 
and  native  reach  of  thought  ?  Milton  justly  ascribes  the 
most  sublime  intelligence  to  Satan  and  his  angels  on  the 
point  of  rebellion  against  the  majesty  of  Heaven.  A  great 
genius  may  be  kindled  by  the  fires  of  discontent  and  am 
bition,  which  will  quicken  the  intellectual  faculties,  even 
while  they  consume  the  soul,  and  spread  their  devastating 
influence  on  the  homes  and  hopes  of  man. 

REFERENCES.  —  There  are  no  better  authorities  than  the  classical 
authors  themselves,  and  their  works  must  be  studied  in  order  to  com 
prehend  the  spirit  of  ancient  literature.  Modern  historians  of  Roman 
literature  are  merely  critics,  like  Drumann,  Schlegel,  Niebuhr,  Miiller, 
Mommsen,  Mure,  Arnold,  Dunlap,  and  Thompson.  Nor  do  I  know  of 
an  exhaustive  history  of  Roman  literature  in  the  English  language. 
Yet  nearly  every  great  writer  has  occasional  criticisms,  entitled  to  re 
spect.  The  Germans,  in  this  department,  have  no  equals.  As  critics 
and  commentators  they  are  unrivaled. 
20 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GRECIAN    PHILOSOPHY. 

WHATEVER  may  be  said  of  the  inferiority  of  the  ancients 
to  the  moderns  in  natural  and  mechanical  science,  which 
no  one  is  disposed  to  question,  or  even  in  the  realm  of 
literature,  which  can  be  questioned,  there  was  one  depart 
ment  which  they  carried  to  absolute  perfection,  and  to 
which  we  have  added  nothing  of  consequence.  In  the 
realm  of  art  they  were  our  equals,  and  probably  our  supe 
riors  ;  in  philosophy  they  carried  logical  deductions  to  their 
utmost  limit.  They  created  the  science.  They  advanced, 
from  a  few  crude  speculations  on  material  phenomena, 
to  an  analysis  of  all  the  powers  of  the  mind,  and  finally  to 
the  establishment  of  ethical  principles  which  even  Christian 
ity  did  not  overturn.  The  progress  of  the  science,  from 
Thales  to  Plato,  is  the  most  stupendous  triumph  of  the 
human  understanding.  The  reason  of  man  soared  to  the 
loftiest  flights  that  it  has  ever  attained.  It  cast  its  search 
ing  eye  into  the  most  abstruse  inquiries  which  ever  tasked 
the  famous  intellects  of  the  world.  It  exhausted  all  the 
subjects  which  dialectical  subtlety  ever  raised.  It  origi 
nated  and  it  carried  out  the  boldest  speculations  respecting 
the  nature  of  the  soul  and  its  future  Existence.  It  estab 
lished  most  important  psychological  truths.  It  created  a 
method  for  the  solution  of  the  most  abstruse  questions.  It 
went  on,  from  point  to  point,  until  all  the  faculties  of  the 
mind  were  severely  analyzed,  and  all  its  operations  were 
subjected  to  a  rigid  method.  The  Romans  never  added  » 
single  principle  to  the  philosophy  which  the  Greeks  elabc 


CHAP.  VIII.]        Origin  of  Grecian  Philosophy.  307 

rated  ;  the  ingenious  scholastics  of  the  Middle  Ages  merely 
reproduced  their  ideas  ;  and  even  the  profound  and  patient 
Germans  have  gone  round  in  the  same  circles  that  Plato 
and  Aristotle  marked  out   more  than  two  thousand  years 
ago.     It   was   Greek   philosophy  in   which    noble   Roman 
youth  were  educated,  and  hence,  as  it  was  expounded  by  a 
Cicero,  a  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  an  Epictetus,  it  was  as  much 
the  inheritance  of  the   Romans  as  it  was  of  the  Greeks 
themselves,  after  their  political  liberties  were  swept  away, 
and  the  Grecian  cities  formed  a  part  of  the  Roman  empire. 
The   Romans   learned,  or   might  have   learned,  what  the 
Greeks  created  and  taught,  and  philosophy  became,  as  well 
as  art,  identified  with  the  civilization  which  extended  from 
the  Rhine  and  the  Po  to  the  Nile  and  the  Tigris.     Grecian 
philosophy  was  one  of  the  distinctive   features  of  ancient 
civilization  long  after  the  Greeks  had  ceased  to  speculate 
on  the  laws  of  mind,  or  the  nature  of  the  soul,  or  the  ex 
istence  of  God,  or  future  rewards  and  punishments.     Al 
though  it  was  purely  Grecian  in  its  origin  and  development, 
it  cannot  be  left  out  of  the  survey  of  the  triumphs  of  the 
human  mind  when  the  Romans  were  masters  of  the  world, 
and  monopolized  the  fruits  of  all  the  arts  and  sciences.     It 
became  one  of  the  grand  ornaments  of  the  Roman  schools, 
one  of  the  priceless  possessions  of  the    Roman    conquer 
ors.     The  Romans  did  not  originate  medicine,  but  Galen 
was  one  of  its  greatest  lights ;  they  did  not  invent  the  hex 
ameter  verse,  but  Virgil  sung  to  its  measure  ;  they  did  not 
create  Ionic  capitals,  but  their  cities  were  ornamented  with 
marble  temples  on  the  same  principles  as  those  which  called 
out  the  admiration  of  Pericles.     So,  if  they  did  not  origi* 
nate  philosophy,  and  generally  had  but  little  taste  for  it, 
still  its  truths  were  systematized  and  explained  by  Cicero, 
and  formed  no  small  accession  to  the  treasures  with  which 
cultivated  intellects  sought  everywhere  to  be  enriched.     It 
formed  an  essential  part  of  the  intellectual  wealth  of  the 
civilized  world,  when  civilization  could  not   prevent  the 


308  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  vili. 

world  from  falling  into  decay  and  ruin.  And  as  it  was  the 
noblest  triumph  which  the  .human  mind,  under  pagan  in 
fluences,  ever  achieved,  so  it  was  followed  by  the  most  de 
grading  imbecility  into  which  man,  in  civilized  countries, 
was  ever  allowed  to  fall.  Philosophy,  like  art,  like  litera 
ture,  like  science,  arose,  shined,  grew  dim,  and  passed 
away,  and  left  the  world  in  night.  Why  was  so  bright  a 
glory  followed  by  so  dismal  a  shame  ?  What  a  comment 
is  this  on  the  greatness  and  littleness  of  man  ! 

The  development  of  Greek  philosophy  is  doubtless  one 
Commence-  of  the  most  interesting  and  instructive  subjects 
Grecian  in  the  whole  history  of  mind.  In  all  probabil- 

specula-  .  .    .  .          .  ",         .         _.  ri        i      •        i  i 

tions.  ity  it  originated  with  the  Ionian  bopnoi,  though 

many  suppose  it  was  derived  from  the  East.  It  is  ques 
tionable  whether  the  oriental  nations  had  any  philoso 
phy  distinct  from  religion.  The  Germans  are  fond  of 
tracing  resemblances  in  the  early  speculations  of  the 
Greeks  to  the  systems  which  prevailed  in  Asia  from  a 
very  remote  antiquity.  Gladish  sees  in  the  Pythagorean 
system  an  adoption  of  Chinese  doctrines  ;  in  the  Heraclitic 
system,  the  influence  of  Persia  ;  in  the  Empedoclean,  Egyp 
tian  speculations  ;  and  in  the  Anaxagorean,  the  Jewish 
creeds.1  But  the  Orientals  had  theogonies,  not  philoso 
phies.  The  Indian  speculations  aim  to  an  exposition  of 
ancient  revelation.  They  profess  to  liberate  the  soul  from 
the  evils  of  mortal  life  —  to  arrive  at  eternal  beatitudes. 
But  the  state  of  perfectibility  could  only  be  reached  by 
religious  ceremonial  observances  and  devout  contempla 
tion.  The  Indian  systems  do  not  disdain  logical  discus 
sions,  or  a  search  after  the  principles  of  which  the  universe 
is  composed ;  and  hence  we  find  great  refinements  in  soph 
istry,  and  a  wonderful  subtlety  of  logical  discussion  ;  but 
these  are  directed  to  unattainable  ends,  —  to  the  connection 
of  good  with  evil,  and  the  union  of  the  supreme  with 
nature.  Nothing  came  out  of  these  speculations  but  an 

1  Lewes,  Biog.  Hist.  ofPhilos.,  Introd. 


CHAP  viii.]      Ideas  and  Speculations  of  Tholes.  309 

occasional  elevation  of  mind  among  the  learned,  and  a 
profound  conviction  of  the  misery  of  man  and  the  obstacles 
to  his  perfection.1  The  Greeks,  starting  from  physical 
phenomena,  went  on  in  successive  series  of  inquiries,  until 
they  elevated  themselves  above  matter,  above  experience, 
even  to  the  loftiest  abstractions,  and  until  they  classified 
the  laws  of  thought.  It  is  curious  how  speculation  led  to 
demonstration,  and  how  inquiries  into  the  world  of  matter 
prepared  the  way  for  the  solution  of  intellectual  phenomena. 
Philosophy  kept  pace  with  geometry,  and  those  who  ob 
served  nature  also  gloried  in  abstruse  calculations.  Philos 
ophy  and  mathematics  seem  to  have  been  allied  with  the 
worship  of  art  among  the  same  men,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
say  which  more  distinguished  them,  aesthetic  culture  or 
power  of  abstruse  reasoning. 

We  do  not  read  of  any  remarkable  philosophical  inquirer 
until  Thales  arose,  the  first  of  the  Ionian  school. 
He   was   born   at   Miletus,   a   Greek   colony  in 
Asia  Minor,  about  the  year  B.  c.  636,  when  Ancus  Martius 
was  king  of  Rome,  and  Josiah  reigned  at  Jerusalem.     He 
has  left  no  writings  behind    him,  but    he   was  numbered 
as  one  of  the  seven  wise  men  of  Greece.    He  was  num 
bered  with  the  wise  men  on  account  of  his  political  sa 
gacity  and  wisdom  in  public  affairs.2 

"  And  he,  't  is  said,  did  first  compute  the  stars 
Which  beam  in  Charles'  wain,  and  guide  the  bark 
Of  the  Phoenician  sailor  o'er  the  sea." 

He  was  the  first  who  attempted  a  logical  solution  of  mate 
rial  phenomena,  without  resorting  to  mythical  representa 
tions.  Thales  felt  that  there  was  a  grand  question  to  be 
answered  relative  to  the  beginning  of  things.  "  Philoso 
phy,"  it  has  been  well  said,  "  may  be  a  history  of  errors^ 
but  not  of  follies"  It  was  not  a  folly,  in  a  rude  age,  to 
speculate  on  the  first  or  fundamental  principle  of  things. 

1  See  Archer  Butler's  fine  lecture  on  the  Indian  Philosophies. 

2  Miiller,  Hist,  of  Grec.  Lit.,  ch.  xvii. 


310  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.VIII 

He  looked  around  him  upon  Nature,  upon  the  sea  and  earth 
water  the  an(^  S^J'  anc^  concluded  that  water  or  moisture 
?ieaifPNat-~  was  tne  vital  principle.  He  felt  it  in  the  air,  he 
ure-  saw  it  in  the  clouds  above,  and  in  the  ground  be 

neath  his  feet.  He  saw  that  plants  were  sustained  by  rain 
and  by  the  dew,  that  neither  animal  nor  man  could  live 
without  water,  and  that  to  fishes  it  was  the  native  ele 
ment.  What  more  important  or  vital  than  water  ?  It  was 
the  prima  materia,  the  apxh  the  beginning  of  all  things 
—  the  origin  of  the  world.1  I  do  not  here  speak  of  his 
astronomical  and  geometrical  labors  —  as  the  first  to  have 
divided  the  year  into  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days. 
He  is  celebrated  also  for  practical  wisdom.  "  Know  thy 
self,"  is  one  of  his  remarkable  sayings.  But  the  founda 
tion  principle  of  his  philosophy  was  that  water  is  the  first 
cause  of  all  things  —  the  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the 
universe.  How  so  crude  a  speculation  could  have  been 
maintained  by  so  wise  a  man  it  is  difficult  to  conjecture. 
It  is  not,  however,  the  reason  which  he  assigns  for  the  be 
ginning  of  things  which  is  noteworthy,  so  much  as  the  fact 
that  his  mind  was  directed  to  the  solution  of  questions  per 
taining  to  the  origin  of  the  universe.  It  was  these  ques 
tions  which  marked  the  Ionian  philosophers.  It  was  these 
which  showed  the  inquiring  nature  of  their  minds.  What 
is  the  great  first  cause  of  all  things  ?  Thales  saw  it  in  one 
of  the  four  elements  of  nature,  as  the  ancients  divided  them. 
And  it  is  the  earliest  recorded  theory  among  the  Greeks  of 
the  origin  of  the  world.  It  is  an  induction  from  the  phe 
nomena  of  animated  nature  —  the  nutrition  and  production 
of  a  seed.2  He  regarded  the  entire  world  in  the  light  of  a 
living  being  gradually  maturing  and  forming  itself  from  an 
imperfect  seed  state,  which  was  of  a  moist  nature.  This 
moisture  endues  the  universe  with  vitality.  The  world,  he 
thought,  was  full  of  gods,  but  they  had  their  origin  in  water. 

1  Aristotle,  Metaph.,  1.  c.  3;  Diog.  Laertius,  Thales. 

2  Ritter,  b.  iii.  c.  3 ;  Lewes,  ch.  1. 


CHAP,  viii.]  Doctrines  of  Anaximenes.  311 

He  had  no  conception  of  God  as  Intelligence,  or  as  a  crea 
tive  power.  He  had  a  great  and  inquiring  mind,  but  he 
was  a  pagan,  with  no  knowledge  of  a  spiritual  and  control 
ling  and  personal  deity. 

Anaximenes,    his   disciple,    pursued    his   inquiries,    and 
adopted  his  method.     He  also  was  born  in  Mile- 


...  .  ...  Air  the  ani- 

tus,  but  at  what  tune  is  unknown,  probably  B.  c.  mus  mundi. 
529.  Like  Thales,  he  held  to  the  eternity  of  matter. 
Like  him,  he  disbelieved  in  the  existence  of  any  thing  im 
material,  for  even  a  human  soul  is  formed  out  of  matter. 
He,  too,  speculated  on  the  origin  of  the  universe,  but 
thought  that  air,  not  water,  was  the  primal  cause.1  This 
seemed  to  be  universal.  We  breathe  it;  all  things  are 
sustained  by  it.  It  is  Life  —  that  is  pregnant  with  vital 
energy,  and  capable  of  infinite  transmutations.  All  things 
are  produced  by  it  ;  all  is  again  resolved  into  it  ;  it  supports 
all  things  ;  it  surrounds  the  world  ;  it  has  infinitude  ;  it 
has  eternal"  motion.  Thus  did  this  philosopher  reason, 
comparing  the  world  with  our  own  living  existence,  — 
which  he  took  to  be  air,  —  an  imperishable  principle  of 
life.  He  thus  advanced  a  step  on  Thales,  since  he  re 
garded  the  world  not  after  the  analogy  of  an  imperfect 
seed-state,  but  that  of  the  highest  condition  of  life,  —  the 
human  soul.2  And  he  attempted  to  refer  to  one  general 
law  all  the  transformations  of  the  first  simple  substance  into 
its  successive  states,  for  the  cause  of  change  is  the  eternal 
motion  of  the  air. 

Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  in  Crete,  one  of  his  disciples, 

born  B.   C.  460,  also  believed  tbat  air  was  the  Diogenes.— 
•  i      P  i          .  11-  i  A*r  an(i  8oui 

principle  of  the  universe,  but  he  imputed  to  it  an  identical. 

intellectual  energy,  yet  without  recognizing  any  distinction 
between  mind  and  matter.3  He  made  air  and  the  soul 
identical.  "  For,"  says  he,  "  man  and  all  other  animals 
breathe  and  live  by  means  of  the  air,  and  therein  consists 

1  Cicero,  De  Nat.  D.,  i.  10.  2  Ritter,  b.  iii.  c.  3. 

8  Diog.  Laert,  ii.  3;  Bayle,  Diet.  Hut.  et  Crit. 


Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  ym 

their  soul  "  i    And  as  it  is  the  primary  being  from  which  all 

bodJmb  1'  !t  "  TeSSarily  a"  etemal   "nd  -P-habl 
body,  but    as  soul,  ,t  „  also  endued   with  consciousness 

D.ogenes  thus  refers  the  origin  of  the  world  to  an  inteffi- 
gent  bemg-to  a  soul  which  knows  and  vivifies.     Anax- 
.menes  regarded  air  as  having  Life.     Diogenes  saw  in  k 
also  Intelligence.     Thus  philosophy  advanced  step  by  step, 
hough  still  groping  in    the  dark;    for  the  origin ^f  aU 
thmgs,  according  to  Diogenes,  must  exist  in  Intelligence. 
Herachtus   of  Ephesus,    classed   by  Ritter   amon-r   the 
"pria7  Iolllan  Philosophers,  was  born  B.  c.  503.  &Like 
others  of  his  school,  he  sought  a  physical  ground 
all  phenomena.     The  elemental  principle  he  regarded 
as  fire  since  all  things  are  convertible  into  it.     In  one  of 
»  modifications   this  fire,  or  fluid,  self-kindled,  permeating 
every  thing  as  the  soul  or  principle  of  life,  is  endowed  with 
Uigence  and  powers  of  ceaseless  activity.     "If  Anax- 
imenes  discovered  that  he  had  within  him  a  power  and 
pnnc,pfe  which  ruled  over  all  the  acts  and  functions  of  his 
bodily  frame,  Heraclitus  found  that  there  was  life  within 
him  winch  he  could  not  call  his  own,  and  yet  it  was,  in  the 
ery  Inghest  sense,  himself,  so  that  without  it  he  would 
have  been  a  poo,-,  helpless,  isolated  creature  ;  a  universal 
hfe  winch  connected  him  with  his  fellow-men,  _  with  the 
bsolute  source  and  original  fountain  of  life."  2     «  He  pro 
churned  the  absolute  vitality  of  nature,  the  endless  change 
of  matter,  the  mutability  and  perishability  of  all  individual 
thmgs  ,„  contrast  with   the  eternal  Being -the  supreme 
harmony  winch   rules  over   all."  3     To   trace   the   divine 
energy  of  life  in  all  things  was  the  general  problem  of  his 
pn.losophy,  alld  this  spirit  was  akin  to  the  pantheism  of  the 
fcast.    But  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  speculative  intellects 
that   preceded   Plato,   and   of   all   the   physical   theorists 
rived  nearest  to  spiritual  truth.     He  taught  the  germs 

«'  iR!'ter'  b»-iH'  c»8'  "  Maurice' Moral  and  M"°i*-  m«- 

1  Lewes,  Biog.  ffisl.  of  Phil. 


CHAP,  viii.]  Doctrines  of  Anaxagoras.  313 

of  what  was  afterwards  more  completely  developed. 
"  From  his  theory  of  perpetual  fluxion  Plato  derived  the 
necessity  of  seeking  a  stable  basis  for  the  universal  system 
in  his  world  of  ideas."  1 

Anaxagoras,  the  most  famous  of  the  Ionian  philosophers, 
was  born  B.  c.  500,  and  belonged  to  a  rich  and  noble  fam 
ily.  Regarding  philosophy  as  the  noblest  pursuit  of  earth, 
he  abandoned  his  inheritance  for  the  study  of  nature.  He 
went  to  Athens  in  the  most  brilliant  period  of  her  history, 
and  had  Pericles,  Euripides,  and  Socrates  for  pupils.  He 
taught  that  the  great  moving  force  of  nature  was  intel 
lect  (i/ous).  Intelligence  was  the  cause  of  the  world 
and  of  order,  and  mind  was  the  principle  of  motion  ;  yet 
this  intelligence  was  not  a  moral  intelligence,  but  simply 
the  primum  mobile — the  all-knowing  motive  force  by 
which  the  order  of  nature  is  effected.  He  thus  laid  the 
foundation  of  a  new  system  which,  under  the  Attic  phil 
osophers,  sought  to  explain  nature,  not  by  regarding  mat 
ter  in  its  different  forms,  as  the  cause  of  all  things,  but 
rather  mind,  thought,  intelligence,  which  both  knows  and 
acts  —  a  grand  conception  unrivaled  in  ancient  speculation. 
This  explanation  of  material  phenomena  by  intellectual 
causes  was  his  peculiar  merit,  and  places  him  in  a  very 
high  rank  among  the  thinkers  of  the  world.  Moreover, 
he  recognized  the  reason  as  the  only  faculty  by  which  we 
become  cognizant  of  truth,  the  senses  being  too  weak  to 
discover  the  real  component  particles  of  things.  Like  all 
the  great  inquirers,  he  was  impressed  with  the  limited  de 
gree  of  positive  knowledge,  compared  with  what  there  is 
to  be  learned.  "  Nothing,"  says  he,  "  can  be  known  ;  noth 
ing  is  certain  ;  sense  is  limited,  intellect  is  weak,  life 
is  short "  2  —  the  complaint,  not  of  a  skeptic,  but  of  a 
man  overwhelmed  with  the  sense  of  his  incapacity  to  solve 
the  problems  which  arose  before  his  active  mind.8  Anax- 

1  Archer  Butler,  series  i.  lect.  v.;  Hegel,  Gesch.  D.  Phil.,  i.  p.  334. 

2  Cicero,  Qu.  Ac.,  i.  12.  «  Lucret.,  lib.  i.  834-875. 


314  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

agoras  thought  that  this  spirit  (Novs)  gave  to  all  those 
material  atoms,  which,  in  the  beginning  of  the  world,  lay 
in  disorder,  the  impulse  by  which  they  took  the  forms  of 
individual  things,  and  that  this  impulse  was  given  in  a  cir 
cular  direction.  Hence  that  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and 
even  the  air,  are  constantly  moving  in  a  circle.1 

In  the  mean  time  another  sect  of  philosophers  arose, 
an-  wno>  like  the  lonians,  sought  to  explain  nature, 
!11*  but  by  a  different  method.  Anaximander,  born 

in-  J 

118  B-  c*  610,  was  one  of  the  original  mathematicians 
things.  Qf  (^reece?  yet?  like  Pythagoras  and  Thales,  spec 
ulated  on  the  beginning  of  things.  His  principle  was  that 
the  Infinite  is  the  origin  of  all  things.  He  used  the  word 
°-PXn  to  denote  tne  material  out  of  which  all  things  were 
formed,  as  the  everlasting  and  divine.2  The  idea  of  ele 
vating  an  abstraction  into  a  great  first  cause  is  certainly 
puerile,  nor  is  it  easy  to  understand  his  meaning,  other  than 
that  the  abstract  has  a  higher  significance  than  the  con 
crete.  The  speculations  of  Thales  tended  toward  discov 
ering  the  material  constitution  of  the  universe,  upon  an 
induction  from  observed  facts,  and  thus  made  water  to  be 
the  origin  of  all  things.  Anaximander,  accustomed  to  view 
things  in  the  abstract,  could  not  accept  so  concrete  a  thing 
as  water ;  his  speculations  tended  toward  mathematics,  to 
the  science  of  pure  deduction.  The  primary  being  is  a 
unity,  one  in  all,  comprising  within  itself  the  multiplicity 
of  elements  from  which  all  mundane  things  are  composed. 
It  is  only  in  infinity  that  the  perpetual  changes  of  things 
can  take  place.3  This  original  but  obscure  thinker  pre 
pared  the  way  for  Pythagoras. 

This  philosopher  and  mathematician,  born  about  the  year 
p  tha  oras  B-  c«  ^70,  is  one  of  the  great  names  of  antiquity ; 
theNe"wMe  but  n's  n^e  1S  shrouded  in  dim  magnificence, 
of  things.  <pjie  QJJ  nistorians  paint  him  as  "  clothed  in  robes 

1  Muller,  Hist.  LU.  of  Greece,  chap.  xvii.  2  Arist.,  Phy.,  iii.  4. 

*  Diog.  Laert.,  i.  119;  Cicero,  Tus.  Qu.,  i.  16;  Tennemann,  p.  1,  ch.  i.  §  86. 


CHAP,  viii.]  Doctrines  of  Pythagoras.  315 

of  white,  his  head  covered  with  gold,  his  aspect  grave  and 
majestic,  wrapt  in  the  contemplation  of  the  mysteries  of 
existence,  listening  to  the  music  of  Homer  and  Hesiod,  or 
to  the  harmony  of  the  spheres."  l  To  him  is  ascribed  the 
use  of  the  word  philosopher  rather  than  sophos,  a  lover  of 
wisdom,  not  wise  man.  He  taught  his  doctrines  to  a  select 
few,  the  members  of  which  society  lived  in  common,  and 
venerated  him  as  an  oracle.  His  great  doctrine  is,  that 
number  is  the  essence  of  things,  by  which  is  understood  the 
form  and  not  the  matter  of  the  sensible.  The  elements 
of  numbers  are  the  odd  and  even,  the  former  being  re 
garded  as  limited,  the  latter  unlimited.  Diogenes  Laer- 
tius  thus  sums  up  his  doctrines,  which  were  that  "  the 
monad  is  the  beginning  of  every  thing.  From  the  monad 
proceeds  an  indefinite  duad.  From  the  monad  and  the 
duad  proceed  numbers,  and  from  numbers  signs,  and  from 
these  lines,  of  which  plain  figures  consist.  And  from 
plain  figures  are  derived  solid  bodies,  and  from  these 
sensible  bodies,  of  which  there  are  four  elements,  fire, 
water,  earth,  and  air.  The  world  results  from  a  com 
bination  of  these  elements." 2  All  this  is  unintelligible 
or  indefinite.  We  cannot  comprehend  how  the  number 
theory  will  account  for  the  production  of  corporeal  mag 
nitude  any  easier  than  we  can  identify  monads  with  math 
ematical  points.  But  underlying  this  mysticism  is  the 
thought  that  there  prevails  in  the  phenomena  of  nature  a 
rational  order,  harmony,  and  conformity  to  law,  Order  and 
and  that  these  laws  can  be  represented  by  num-  nature. 
bers.  Number  or  harmony  is  the  principle  of  the  uni 
verse,  and  order  holds  together  the  world.  Like  Anax- 
imander,  he  passes  from  the  region  of  physics  to  metaphys 
ics,  and  thus  opens  a  new  world  of  speculation.  His 
method  was  purely  deductive,  and  his  science  mathemat 
ical.  "  The  Infinite  of  Anaximander  became  the  One  of 
Pythagoras."  Assuming  that  number  is  the  essence  of  the 

l  Lewea,  Biog.  Hist.  Phil.  2  Diog.  Laert.,  Lives  of  Phil. 


Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  vni. 

world,  he  deduced  that  the  world  is  regulated  by  numerical 
proportions,  in  other  words,  by  a  system  of  laws,  and  these 
laws,  regular  and  harmonious  in  their  operation,  may  have 
suggested  to  the  great  mind  of  Pythagoras,  so  religious  and 
lofty,  the  necessity  for  an  intelligent  creator  of  the  uni 
verse.     It  was  in  moral  truth  that  he  delighted  as  well  as 
metaphysical,  and  his  life  and  the  lives  of  his  disciples  were 
disciplined  to  a  severe  virtue,  as  if  he  recognized  in  num 
bers  or  order  the  necessity  of  a  conformity  to  all  law,  and 
saw  in  obedience  to  it  both  harmony  and  beauty.     But  we 
have  no  direct  and  positive  evidence  of  the  kind  or  amount 
of  knowledge  which  this  great  intellect  acquired.    All  that 
can    be  affirmed  is,   that  he   was  a    man  of  extensive  at 
tainments  ;  that  he  was  a  great  mathematician,   that  he 
was  very  religious,  that  he  devoted  himself  to  doing  good, 
that  he  placed  happiness  in  the  virtues  of  the  souf  or  the' 
perfect   science  of  numbers,   and  made  a  likeness  to  the 
Deity    the  object    of  all    endeavors.      He    believed    that 
the   soul  was  incorporeal,1  and  is  put  into  the   body  by 
the  means  of  number  and   harmonica!   relation,  and  thus 
subject  to  a  divine  regulation.     Every  thing  was  regarded 
by  him  in  a  moral  light.     The  order  of  the  universe  is  only 
a  harmomcal  development  of  the  first  principle  of  all  things 
to  virtue  and  wisdom.*     He  attached  great  value  to  music, 
as  a  subject  of  precise  mathematical  calculation,  and  an  art 
which  has  a  great  effect  on  the  affections.     Hence  morals 
and  mathematics  were  linked  together  in  his  mind.     As 
the    heavens    were  ordered  in  consonance   with  number, 
they  must   move    in   eternal  order.     «  The  spheres  "  re 
volved   in  harmonious  order  around   the  great  centre  of 
light  and  heat  —the  sun  —  "the  throne  of  the  elemental 
world."  Hence  the  doctrine  of"  the  music  of  the  spheres." 
Pythagoras  ad  harnwniam  canere  mundum  ezistimat.3    The 

1  Ritter,  b.  iv.  chap.  i. 

Pythag°ras  fa  chiefl-v  de™d  fr°™  Aristotle.     Both  Kit- 


was 
8  Cicero,  De  Nat.  /).,  iii.  ii.  27. 


CHAP,  vin.]  Doctrines  of  Xenophanes.  317 

tendency  of  his  speculations,  obscure  as  they  are  to  us, 
was  to  raise  the  soul  to  a  contemplation  of  order  and  beauty 
and  law,  in  the  material  universe,  and  hence  to  the  con 
templation  of  a  supreme  intelligence  reigning  in  justice  and 
truth.  Justice  and  truth  became  therefore  paramount  vir 
tues,  to  be  practiced,  to  be  sought  as  the  great  end  of 
life,  allied  with  the  order  of  the  universe,  and  with  mathe 
matical  essences  -  the  attributes  of  the  deity,  the  sublime 
unity  which  he  adored. 

The  Ionic  philosophers,  and  the  Pythagoreans,  sought 
to  find  the  nature  or  first  principle  of  all  things  in  the  ele 
ments,  or  in  numbers.  But  the  Eleatics  went  beyond  the 
realm  of  physics  to  pure  metaphysical  inquiries, 
the  second  stage  in  the  history  of  philosophy  —  an  ideal 
istic  pantheism,  which  disregarded  the  sensible  and  main 
tained  that  the  source  of  all  truth  is  independent  < 

sense. 

The    founder  of  this   school  was   Xenophanes,  born  r 
Colophon,  an   Ionian   city  of  Asia  Minor,  from   xenopban^. 
which,  being  expelled,  he  wandered  over  Sicily  firstjreat 
as  a  rhapsodist  or  minstrel,  reciting  his  elegiac  c 
poetry  on  the  loftiest  truths  ;  and  at  last  came  to  Elea, 
about  the  year  536,  where  he  settled.     The  great  subject 
of  his  inquiries  was  God  himself—  the  first  great  cause  — 
the   supreme  intelligence  of   the    universe.       "  From  the 
principle  ex  nihilo  nihilfit,  he  concluded  that  nothing  could 
pass  from  non-existence  to  existence.     All  things  that  ex 
ist  are  eternal  and  immutable.     God,  as  the  most  perfect 
essence,  is  eternally  One,  unalterable,  neither  finite  nor  in 
finite,  neither  movable  nor  immovable,  and  not  to  be  rep 
resented  under  any  human  semblance."  *     What  a  great 
stride  was  this !     Whence  did  he  derive  his  opinions  ? 
starts    with  the  proposition    that   God  is  an   all-powerful 
being,  and  denies  all  beginning  of  being,  and  hence  inters 
that  God  must  be  from  eternity.     From  this  truth  he  ad- 

1  Tennemann,  Hist,  of  Phil,  p.  1,  §  98. 


318  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  vill. 

vances  to  deny  all  multiplicity.  A  plurality  of  gods  is 
impossible.  With  these  sublime  views  —  the  unity  and 
eternity  and  omnipotence  of  God  —  he  boldly  attacked 
the  popular  errors  of  his  day.  He  denounced  the  trans 
ference  to  the  deity  of  the  human  form ;  he  inveighed 
against  Homer  and  Hesiod  ;  he  ridiculed  the  doctrine  of 
migration  of  souls.  Thus  he  sings,  — 

"  Such  things  of  the  gods  are  related  by  Homer  and  Hesiod, 
As  would  be  shame  and  abiding  disgrace  to  mankind,  — 
Promises  broken,  and  thefts,  and  the  one  deceiving  the  other."  * 

And,  again,  respecting  anthropomorphic  representations 
of  the  Deity,  — 

"  But  men  foolishly  think  that  gods  are  born  like  as  men  are, 
And  have,  too,  a  dress  like  their  own,  and  their  voice  and  their  figure; 
But  there  's  but  one  God  alone,  the  greatest  of  gods  and  of  mortals, 
Neither  in  body,  to  mankind  resembling,  neither  in  ideas." 

Such  were  his  sublime  meditations.  He  believed  in  the 
One,  which  is  God  ;  but  this  all-pervading,  unmoved,  un 
divided  being  was  not  a  personal  God,  nor  a  moral  gov 
ernor,  but  the  deity  pervading  all  space.  He  could  not  sep 
arate  God  from  the  world,  nor  could  he  admit  the  existence 
of  world  which  is  not  God.  He  was  a  monotheist,  but  his 
God  seen  in  monotheism  was  pantheism.  He  saw  God  in  all 
?el8tah«onsaof"  tne  manifestations  of  nature.  This  did  not  sat- 
nature.  jsfv  njm^  nor  resolve  his  doubts,  and  he  therefore 
confessed  that  reason  could  not  compass  the  exalted  aims 
of  philosophy.  But  there  was  no  cynicism  in  his  doubt. 
It  was  the  soul-sickening  consciousness  that  Reason  was 
incapable  of  solving  the  mighty  questions  that  he  burned 
to  know.  There  was  no  way  to  arrive  at  the  truth,  "  for," 
as  he  said,  "  error  is  spread  over  all  things."  It  was  not 
disdain  of  knowledge,  it  was  the  combat  of  contradictory 
opinions  that  oppressed  him.  He  could  not  solve  the  ques 
tions  pertaining  to  God.  What  uninstructed  reason  can  ? 
"  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God,  canst  thou  know 

1  See  Ritter,  on  Xenophanes.    See  note  20,  in  Archer  Butler,  series  i.  lect  vi. 


CHAP.  Yin.]  Parmenides  and  Zeno.  319 

the  Almighty  unto  perfection."  What  was  impossible  to 
Job,  was  not  possible  to  him.  But  he  had  attained  a 
recognition  of  the  unity  and  perfections  of  God,  He  sought  to 
and  this  conviction  he  would  spread  abroad,  and  S^w^dge 
tear  down  the  superstitions  which  hid  the  face  of 
truth.  I  have  great  admiration  of  this  philosopher,  so  sad, 
so  earnest,  so  enthusiastic,  wandering  from  city  to  city, 
indifferent  to  money,  comfort,  friends,  fame,  that  he  might 
kindle  the  knowledge  of  God.  This  was  a  lofty  aim  in 
deed  for  philosophy  in  that  age.  It  was  a  higher  mis 
sion  than  that  of  Homer,1  great  as  his  was,  but  not  so  suc 
cessful. 

Parmenides  of  Elea,  born  about  the  year  B.  c.  536,  fol 
lowed  out  the  system  of  Xenophanes,  the  central  idea  of 
which  was  the  existence  of  God.  With  him  the  central  idea 
was  the  notion  of  being.  Being  is  uncreated  and  unchange 
able  ;  the  fullness  of  all  being  is  thought;  the  All  is  thought 
and  intelligence.  He  maintained  the  uncertainty  of  knowl 
edge  ;  but  meant  the  knowledge  derived  through  the 
senses.  He  did  not  deny  the  certainty  of  reason.  He 
was  the  first  who  drew  a  distinction  between  knowledge 
obtained  by  the  senses,  and  that  obtained  through  the 
reason ;  and  thus  he  anticipated  the  doctrine  of  innate 
ideas.  From  the  uncertainty  of  knowledge  derived  through 
the  senses,  he  deduced  the  twofold  system  of  true  and 
apparent  knowledge.2 

Zeno  of  Elea,  the  friend  and  pupil  of  Parmenides,  born 
B.  c.  500,  brought  nothing  new  to  the  system,  but  ^^^ 
invented  Dialectics,  that  logic  which  afterwards  method. 
became  so  powerful  in  the  hands  of  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
and  so  generally  admired  among  the  schoolmen.  It  seeks 
to  establish  truth  by  refuting  error  by  the  reductio  ad  db- 
surdum.  While  Parmenides  sought  to  establish  the  doc- 

1  Lewes  has  some  shallow  remarks  on  this  point,  although  spirited  and  read 
able.    Ritter  is  more  earnest. 

2  Prof.  Brandis's  article  in  Smith's  Dictionary. 


Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  vm. 

trine  of  the  One,  Zeno  proved  the  non-existence  of  the 
Many  He  denied  that  appearances  were  real  existences 
but  did  not  deny  existences.  It  was  the  mission  of  Zeno 
to  establish  the  doctrines  of  his  master.  But,  in  order  to 
convince  his  listeners,  he  was  obliged  to  use  a  new  method 
of  argument  So  he  carried  on  his  argumentation  by 
question  and  answer,  and  was,  therefore,  the  first  who 
used^mlogue  as  a  medium  of  philosophical  communica- 


Empedocles,  born  B.  c.  444,  like  others  of  the  Eleatics, 
».  complained  of  the  imperfection  of  the  senses,  and 
i^au  looked  for  truth  only  in  reason.  He  regarded 
«"*•  truth  as  a  perfect  unity,  ruled  by  love,"-  the 
only  true  force,  the  one  moving  cause  of  all  things,  —  the 
first  creative  power  by  whom  the  world  was  formed.  Thus 
•God  ,slove,"  a  sublime  doctrine  which  philosophy  re 
vealed  to  the  Greeks.  '  * 

Thus  did  the  Eleatic  philosophers  speculate  almost  con 
temporaneously   with   the    lonians,   on    the   beginning  of 
things  and  the  ongin  of  knowledge,  taking  different  grounds 
and  attempting  to  correct  the  representations  of  sense  by 
the  notion,  of  reason.     But  both  schools,  although  they 
did  not  estabhsh  many  truths,  raised  an  inquisitive  spirit 
and  awakened    freedom  of  thought   and   inquiry.     They 
raised  up  workmen  for  more  enlightened  times;  even  as 
scholast,c  inquirers  in  the  Middle  Ages  prepared  the  way 
for  the  revival  of  philosophy  on  sounder  principles.     They 
were  all  men  of  remarkable  elevation  of  character  as  well 
as   genius.     They   hated   superstitions   and   attacked   the 
Anthropomorphism  of  their  day.     They  handled  gods  and 
goddesses  with  allegorizing  boldness,  and  hence  we're  often 
SuJST    Pe,rsecuted  bv  the  P«»ple.     They  did  not  estab- 
±eprail0"  m°ral  truths  ^  sc'e»tific  processes,  but  they 

set  examples  of  lofty  disdain  of  wealth  and  facti- 
is  advantages,  and  devoted  themselves  with  holy  enthu- 
1  Cousin,  Nmaumx  Fragmenti  Pliilosophiqwt. 


CHAP,  viii.]  Rise  of  the  Sophists.  321 

siasm  to  the  solution  of  the  great  questions  which  pertain 
to  God  and  nature.    Thales  won  the  respect  of  his  country 
men  by  devotion    to   studies.     Pythagoras  spent  twenty- 
two   years   in  Egypt   to  learn    its    science.     Xenophanes 
wandered  over  Sicily  as  a  rhapsodist  of  truth.     Parmeni- 
des,  born    to  wealth   and    splendor,  forsook    the    feverish 
pursuit  of  sensual  enjoyments  to  contemplate  "  the  quiet 
and    still    air    of  delightful    studies."     Zeno    declined    all 
worldly    honors    to    diffuse    the    doctrines    of  his    master. 
Heraclitus  refused  the  chief  magistracy  of  Ephesus  that  he 
mio;ht  have  leisure  to  explore  the  depths  of  his  own  nature. 
Anaxagoras  allowed  his  patrimony  to  run  to  waste  in  order 
to  solve   problems.     "  To   philosophy,"  said  he,  "  I   owe 
my  worldly  ruin  and  my  soul's  prosperity."     They  were, 
without  exception,  the  greatest  and  best  men  of  their  times. 
They  laid  the  foundation  of  the   beautiful  temple  which 
was    constructed   after    they   were    dead,    in    which   both 
physics  and  psychology  reached  the  dignity  of  science.1 

Nevertheless,  these  great  men,  lofty  as  were  their  inqui 
ries,  and  blameless  their  lives,  had  not  established  any 
system,  nor  any  theories  which  were  incontrovertible. 
They  had  simply  speculated,  and  the  world  ridiculed 
their  speculations.  They  were  one-sided;  and,  when 
pushed  out  to  their  extreme  logical  sequence,  were  antag 
onistic  to  each  other,  which  had  a  tendency  to  produce 
doubt  and  skepticism.  Men  denied  the  existence  of  the 
gods,  and  the  grounds  of  certainty  fell  away  from  the 
human  mind. 

This  spirit  of  skepticism   was   favored  by  the  tide  of 
worldliness    and   prosperity  which   followed    the  c*cum- 
Persian  War.     Athens  became  a  great  centre  of  wwchfc; 
art,  of  taste,  of  elegance,  and  of  wealth.     Politics  sophists. 
absorbed  the  minds  of  the  people.    Glory  and  splendor  were 
followed  by  corruption  of  morals  and  the  pursuit  of  material 

1  Archer  Butler  in  his  lecture  on  the  Eleatic  school  follows  closely,  and  ex- 
pounds  clearly,  the  views  of  Ritter. 


322  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIIL 

pleasures.  Philosophy  went  out  of  fashion,  since  it  brought 
no  outward  and  tangible  good.  More  scientific  studies 
were  pursued  —  those  which  could  be  applied  to  purposes 
of  utility  and  material  gains  ;  even,  as  in  our  day,  geology, 
chemistry,  mechanics,  engineering,  having  reference  to  the 
practical  wants  of  men,  command  talent,  and  lead  to  certain 
reward.  In  Athens,  rhetoric,  mathematics,  and  natural 
history  supplanted  rhapsodies  and  speculations  on  God  and 
Providence.  Renown  and  wealth  could  only  be  secured 
by  readiness  and  felicity  of  speech,  and  that  was  most 
valued  which  brought  immediate  reward,  like  eloquence. 
Men  began  to  practice  eloquence  as  an  art,  and  to  employ 
character  of  ^  m  furthering  their  interests.  They  made  spe- 
the  sophists.  cja|  j,]ea(jjngs?  since  it  was  their  object  to  gain 
their  point,  at  any  expense  of  law  and  justice.  Hence  they 
taught  that  nothing  was  immutably  right,  but  only  so  by 
convention.  They  undermined  all  confidence  in  truth  and 
religion  by  teaching  its  uncertainty.  They  denied  to  men 
even  the  capability  of  arriving  at  truth.  They  practically 
affirmed  the  cold  and  cynical  doctrine  that  there  is  nothing 
better  for  a  man  than  that  he  should  eat  and  drink.  Qui 
bono,  the  cry  of  the  Epicureans,  of  the  latter  Romans, 
and  of  most  men  in  a  period  of  great  outward  pros 
perity,  was  the  popular  inquiry,  —  who  shall  show  us 
any  good  ?  —  how  can  we  become  rich,  strong,  honorable  ? 
—  this  was  the  spirit  of  that  class  of  public  teachers  who 
arose  in  Athens  when  art  and  eloquence  and  wealth  and 
splendor  were  at  their  height  in  the  fifth  century  before 
Christ,  and  when  the  elegant  Pericles  was  the  leader  of 
fashion  and  of  political  power. 

These    men    were  the   Sophists  —  rhetorical    men   who 
power  and     ta  light  the  children  of  the  rich  ;  worldly  men  who 

popularity  of  °  .  .       .  _. 

sought  honor  and  power;  frivolous  men,  trifling 


with  philosophical  ideas  ;  skeptical  men,  denying  all  cer 
tainty  to  truths  ;  men  who,  as  teachers,  added  nothing  to 
the  realm  of  science,  but  who  yet  established  certain  dia- 


CHAP,  viii.]  Mission  of  the  Sophists.  323 

lectical  rules  useful  to  later  philosophers.     They  were  a 
wealthy,  powerful,  honored  class,  not  much  esteemed  by 
men  of  thought,  but  sought  out  as  very  successful  teachers 
of  rhetoric.    They  were  full  of  logical  tricks,  and  contrived 
to  throw  ridicule  upon  profound  inquiries.     They  taught 
also  mathematics,  astronomy,  philology,  and  natural  history 
with  success.     They  were  polished  men  of  society,  not  pro 
found  nor  religious,  but  very  brilliant  as  talkers,  and  very 
ready  in  wit  and  sophistry.     And  some  of  them  were  men 
of  great  learning  and  talent,  like  Dernocritus,  Leucippus, 
and  Gorgias.     They    were    not   pretenders    and    quacks ; 
they  were  skeptics  who  denied  subjective  truths,  and  la 
bored  for  outward  advantage.     They  were  men  lQfluenCeof 
of  general  information,  skilled   in    subtleties,  of  «» **"•«•• 
powerful  social  and  political  connections,  and  were  gener 
ally  selected  as  ambassadors  on  difficult  missions.     They 
taught  the  art  of  disputation,  and  sought  systematic  meth 
ods  of  proof.     They  thus  prepared   the  way  for  a  more 
perfect   philosophy  than   that  taught  by  the  lonians,  the 
Pythagoreans,    or    the    Eleatae,    since    they    showed    the 
vagueness  of  their  inquiries,  conjectural  rather  than  scien 
tific.     They  had  no  doctrines  in  common.     They  were  the 
barristers  of  their  age,  paid  to  make  the   "  worse  appear 
the  better  reason,"    yet   not   teachers  of  immorality  any 
more  than  the  lawyers  of  our  day,  —  men  of  talents,  the 
intellectual   leaders  of  society.     If  they  did  not  advance 
positive    truths,    they    were    useful    in    the    method    they 
created.    They  taught  the  art  of  disputation.     They  doubt 
less  quibbled  when  they  had  a  bad  cause  to  present.    They 
brought  out  the  truth  more  forcibly  when  they  defended  a 
good  cause.     They  had  no  hostility  to  truth;  they  only 
doubted  whether  it  could  be  reached  in  the  realm  of  psy 
chological  inquiries,  and  sought  to  apply  it  to  their  own 
purposes,  or  rather  to  distort  it  in  order  to  gain  a  case. 
They  are  not  a  class  of  men  whom  I  admire,  as  I  do  the 
old  sages  they  ridiculed,  but  they  were  not  without  their 


Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  ym. 

use  in  the  development  of  philosophy.'  The  Sophists  also 
rendered  a  service  to  literature  by  giving  definiteness  to 
language,  and  creating  style  in  prose  writing.  Protagoras 
investigated  the  principles  of  accurate  composition  ;  P^odi- 
cus  busied  himself  with  inquiries  into  the  significance  of 
words  ;  Gorgias  proposed  a  captivating  style.  He  gave 
symmetry  to  the  structure  of  sentences. 

The  ridicule  and  skepticism  of  the  Sophists  brought  out 
Socrates.       the  great  powers  of  Socrates,  to  whom  philosophy 
is  probably  more  indebted  than  to  any  man  who 
ever  lived,  not  so  much  for  a  perfect  system,  but  for  the 
impulse  he  gave  to  philosophical  inquiries,  and  his  success 
ful  exposure  of  error.     He  inaugurated  a  new  era.     Born 
in  Athens  in  the  year  470  B.  a,  the  son  of  a  poor  sculptor, 
he  devoted  his  life  to  the  search  for  truth,  for  its  own  sake 
and  sought  to  base  it  on  immutable  foundations.     He  was 
the  mortal  enemy  of  the  Sophists,  whom  he  encountered,  as 
ascal  did  the  Jesuits,  with  wit,  irony,  puzzling  questions, 
and  remorseless  logic.     Like  the  earlier  philosophers,  he 
hsdamed  wealth,  ease,  and  comfort,  but  with  greater  de 
votion  than  they,  since  he  lived  in  a  more   corrupt  a^e 
when    poverty  was  a    disgrace    and   misfortune    a  crime 
when  success  was  the  standard  of  merit,  and  every  man 
was  supposed  to  be  the  arbiter  of  his  own  fortune,  ignoring 
that  Providence  who  so  often  refuses  the  race  to  the  swift 
and  the  battle  to  the  strong.     He  was  what  in  our  time 
would  be  called  eccentric.     He  walked  barefooted,  meanly 
clad,  and  withal  not  over  cleanly,  seeking  public  places, 
disputing  with  everybody  willing  to  talk  with  him,  makin, 
every  body  ridiculous,  especially  if  one  assumed  airs  of  wis 
dom  or  knowledge,  -an  exasperating  opponent,  since  he 
wove  a  web  around  a  man  from  which  he  could  not  be  extri 
cated,  and  then  exposed  him  to  ridicule,  in  the  wittiest  city 

°f  th 


attacked  eve*T  body,  and  yet 
was  generally  respected,  since  it  was  'errors  and 
1  Grote  has  a  fine  chapter  on  the  Sophists  (part  ii.  ch.  67). 


CHAT.  viii.  Socrates.  325 

not  the  person,  opinions  rather  than  vices  ;  and  this  he  did 
with  bewitching  eloquence  and  irresistible  fascination  ;  so 
that,  though  he  was  poor  and  barefooted,  a  Silenus  in  ap 
pearance,  with  thick  lips,  upturned  nose,  projecting  eyes, 
unwieldy  belly,  he  was  sought  by  Alcibiades  and  admired 
by  Aspasia.     Even  Xantippe,  a   beautiful  young  woman, 
very  much  younger  than  he,  a  woman  fond  of  the  com 
forts  and  pleasures  of  life,  was  willing  to  be  his  wife,  even 
if  she  did  afterwards  torment  him,  when  the  res  anyusta 
domi  disenchanted  her  from  the  music  of  his  voice  and  the 
divinity  of  his  nature.     "  I  have  heard  Pericles,"  said  the 
most  dissipated  and  voluptuous  man  in  Athens,  "  and  other 
excellent  orators,  but  was  not  moved  by  them  ;  while  this 
Marsyas  —  this    Satyr  —  so    affects    me    that    the    life    I 
lead    is    hardly    worth    living,    and    I    stop    my    ears,    as 
from    the    Syrens,    and    flee    as   fast   as    possible,    that   I 
may    not    sit    down    and    grow    old    in    listening    to    his 
talk.''      He    learned    his    philosophv    from    no    one,    and 
struck  out  an  entirely  new  path.      He  declared  his  own 
ignorance,  and  sought  to  convince  other  people  of  theirs. 
He  did  not  seek  to  reveal  truth  so  much  as  to  expose  error. 
And  yet  it  was  his  object  to  attain  correct  ideas  as  to  moral 
obligations.     He  was  the  first  who  recognized  natural  right, 
and  held  that  virtue  and  vice  are  inseparably'  united.     He 
proclaimed  the  sovereignty  of  virtue,  and  the  immutability 
of  justice.     He  sought  to  delineate  and  enforce  the  practi 
cal  duties  of  life.     His  great  object  was  the  elucidation  of 
morals,  and  he  was  the  first  to  teach  ethics  svtem-  Ethical  in- 
atically,  and  from   the  immutable   principles  of   soc»t«. 
moral  obligation.     Moral  certitude  was  the  loftv  platform 
from  which  he  surveyed  the  world,  and  upon  which,  as  a 
rock,  he  rested  in  the  storms  of  life.     Thus  he  was  a  re 
former  and  a  moralist.     It  was  his  ethical  doctrines  which 
were  most  antagonistic  to  the  age,  and  the  least  appreciated., 
He  was  a  profoundly  religious  man,  recognized  Providence, 
and  believed  in   the  immortality  of  the  soul.     From  the 


326  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.VIII. 

abyss  of  doubt,  wbich  succeeded  the  speculations  of  the 
first  philosophers,  he  would  plant  grounds  of  certitude  — 
a  ladder  on  which  he  would  mount  to  the  sublime  regions 
of  absolute  truth.  He  did  not  presume  to  inquire  into  the 
Divine  essence,  yet  he  believed  that  the  gods  were  omnis 
cient  and  omnipresent,  that  they  ruled  by  the  law  of 
goodness,  and  that,  in  spite  of  their  multiplicity,  there  was 
unJty  —  a  supreme  intelligence  that  governed  the  world. 
Hence  he  was  hated  by  the  Sophists,  who  denied  the  cer 
tainty  of  arriving  at  the  knowledge  of  God.  From  the 
comparative  worthlessness  of  the  body  he  deduced  the  im 
mortality  of  the  soul.  With  him,  the  end  of  life  was  reason 
and  intelligence.  He  proved  the  existence  of  God  by  the 
order  and  harmony  of  nature,  which  belief  was  certain. 
He  endeavored  to  connect  the  moral  with  the  religious  con 
sciousness,  and  then  he  proclaimed  his  convictions  for  the 
practical  welfare  of  society.  In  this  light  Socrates  stands  out 
the  grandest  personage  of  pagan  antiquity,  —  as  a  moralist, 
as  a  teacher  of  ethics,  as  a  man  who  recognized  the  Divine. 
So  far  as  he  was  concerned  in  the  development  of  Gre- 
The  mission  C1"an  philosophy  proper,  he  was  probably  inferior 
of  Socrates.  to  some  of  hjs  disciples.  Yet  he  gave  a  turning- 
point  to  a  new  period,  when  he  awakened  the  idea  of 
knowledge,  and  was  the  founder  of  the  theory  of  scientific 
knowledge,  since  he  separated  the  legitimate  bounds  of 
inquiry,  and  was  thus  the  precursor  of  Bacon  and  Pascal. 
He  did  not  attempt  to  make  physics  explain  metaphysics, 
nor  metaphysics  the  phenomena  of  the  natural  world.  And 
he  only  reasoned  from  what  was  assumed  to  be  true  and 
invariable.  He  was  a  great  pioneer  of  philosophy,  since 
he  resorted  to  inductive  methods  of  proof,  and  gave  general 
definiteness  to  ideas.1  He  gave  a  new  method,  and  used 
great  precision  of  language.  Although  he  employed  in 
duction,  it  was  his  aim  to  withdraw  the  mind  from  the 
contemplation  of  nature,  and  to  fix  it  on  its  own  phenomena, 

1  Arist.,  Metaph.,  xiii.  4. 


CHAP,  viii.]  The  Mission  of  Socrates.  327 

—  to  look  inward  rather  than  outward,  as  carried  out  so 
admirably  by  Plato.  The  previous  philosophers  had  given 
their  attention  to  external  nature  ;  he  gave  up  speculations 
about  material  phenomena,  and  directed  his  inquiries  solely 
to  the  nature  of  knowledge.  And,  as  he  considered  knowl 
edge  to  be  identical  with  virtue,  he  speculated  on  ethical 
questions  mainly,  and  the  method  which  he  taught  was 
that  by  which  alone  man  could  become  better  and  wiser. 
To  know  one's  self,  in  other  words,  "  that  the  proper  study 
of  mankind  is  man,"  he  was  the  first  to  proclaim.  He  did 
not  disdain  the  subjects  which  chiefly  interested  the  Soph 
ists,  —  astronomy,  rhetoric,  physics  ;  but  he  discussed  moral 
questions,  such  as,  what  is  piety  ?  what  is  the  just  and  the 
unjust  ?  what  is  temperance  ?  what  is  courage  ?  what  is  the 
character  fit  for  a  citizen? — and  such  like  ethical  points. 
And  he  discussed  them  in  a  peculiar  manner,  in  a  method 
peculiarly  his  own.  "  Professing  ignorance,  he  put  perhaps 
this  question  —  What  is  law  ?  It  was  familiar  and  was 
answered  off-hand.  Socrates,  having  got  the  answer,  then 
put  fresh  questions  applicable  to  specific  cases,  to  which  the 
respondent  was  compelled  to  give  an  answer  inconsistent 
with  the  first,  thus  showing  that  the  definition  was  too  nar 
row  or  too  wide,  or  defective  in  some  essential  condition.1 
The  respondent  then  amended  his  answer ;  but  this  was  a 
prelude  to  other  questions,  which  could  only  be  answered 
in  ways  inconsistent  with  the  amendment ;  and  the  respond 
ent,  after  many  attempts  to  disentangle  himself,  was  obliged 
to  plead  guilty  to  his  inconsistencies,  with  an  admission 
that  he  could  make  no  satisfactory  answer  to  the  original 
inquiry  which  had  at  first  appeared  so  easy."  Thus,  by 
this  system  of  cross-examination,  he  showed  the  intimate 
connection  between  the  dialectic  method,  and  the  logical 
distribution  of  particulars  into  species  and  genera.  The 
discussion  first  turns  upon  the  meaning  of  some  generic 
term  ;  the  queries  bring  the  answers  into  collision  with 

l  Grote,  part  ii.  ch.  68. 


328  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  viil. 

various  particulars  which  it  ought  not  to  comprehend,  or 
which  it  ought  to  comprehend,  but  does  not.  He  broke 
up  the  one  into  many  by  his  analytical  string  of  questions, 
which  was  a  novel  mode  of  argument.  This  was  the 
method  which  he  invented,  and  by  which  he  separated  real 
knowledge  from  the  conceit  of  knowledge,  and  led  to  pre 
cision  in  the  use  of  definitions.  It  was  thus  that  he  exposed 
the  false,  without  aiming  even  to  teach  the  true  ;  for  he 
generally  professed  ignorance,  and  put  himself  in  the  atti 
tude  of  a  learner,  while  he  made  by  his  cross-examinations 
the  man  from  whom  he  apparently  sought  knowledge  to 
be  as  ignorant  as  himself,  or,  still  worse,  absolutely  ridicu 
lous.  Thus  he  pulled  away  all  the  foundations  on  which  a 
false  science  had  been  erected,  and  indicated  the  way  by 
which  alone  the  true  could  be  established.  Here  he  was 
not  unlike  Bacon,  who  pointed  out  the  way  that  science 
could  be  advanced,  without  founding  any  school  or  advo 
cating  any  system  ;  but  he  was  unlike  Bacon  in  the  object 
of  his  inquiries.  Bacon  was  disgusted  with  ineffective 
logical  speculations,  and  Socrates  with  ineffective  physical 
researches.1  He  never  suffered  a  general  term  to  remain 
undetermined,  but  applied  it  at  once  to  particulars,  and  by 
questions  the  purport  of  which  was  not  comprehended.  It 
was  not  by  positive  teaching,  but  by  exciting  scientific  im 
pulse  in  the  minds  of  others,  or  stirring  up  the  analytical 
faculties,  which  constitute  his  originality.  u  The  Socratic 
dialectics,  clearing  away,"  says  Grote,2  "  from  the  mind  its 
mist  of  fancied  knowledge,  and,  laying  bare  the  real  igno 
rance,  produced  an  immediate  effect  like  the  touch  of 
the  torpedo  ;  the  newly  created  consciousness  of  ignorance 
was  humiliating  and  painful,  yet  it  was  combined  with  a 
yearning  after  truth  never  before  experienced.  Such  intel 
lectual  quickening,  which  could  never  commence  until  the 
mind  had  been  disabused  of  its  original  illusion  of  false 

1  Archer  Butler,  s.  i.  1.  vii. 

2  Grote,  part  ii.  ch.  68;  Maurice,  Ancient  Philosophy,  p.  119. 


CHAP,  viii.]  The  Socratic  Dialectics.  329 

knowledge,  was  considered  by  Socrates  not  merely  as  the 
index  and  precursor,  but  as  the  indisputable  condition  of 
future  progress."  It  was  the  aim  of  Socrates  to  Thegreat 
force  the  seekers  after  truth  into  the  path  of  in-  g™^ticthe 
ductive  generalization,  whereby  alone  trustworthy  method- 
conclusions  could  be  formed.  He  thus  improved  the 
method  of  speculative  minds,  and  struck  out  from  other 
minds  that  fire  which  sets  light  to  original  thought  and 
stimulates  analytical  inquiry.  He  was  a  religious  and  in 
tellectual  missionary  preparing  the  way  for  the  Platos  and 
Aristotles  of  the  succeeding  age  by  his  severe  dialectics. 
This  was  his  mission,  and  he  declared  it  by  talking.  He 
did  not  lecture ;  he  conversed.  For  more  than  thirty 
years  he  discoursed  on  the  principles  of  morality,  until  he 
arrayed  against  himself  enemies  who  caused  him  to  be  put 
to  death,  for  his  teachings  had  undermined  the  popular 
system  which  the  Sophists  accepted  and  practiced.  He 
probably  might  have  been  acquitted  if  he  had  chosen  it,  but 
he  did  not  wish  to  live  after  his  powers  of  usefulness  had 
passed  away.  He  opened  to  science  new  matter  and  a  new 
method,  as  a  basis  for  future  philosophical  systems.  He 
was  a  "  colloquial  dialectician,"  such  as  this  world  has 
never  seen,  and  may  never  see  again.  He  was  a  skeptic 
respecting  physics,  but  as  far  as  man  and  society  are  con 
cerned,  he  thought  that  every  man  might  and  ought  to 
knowr  what  justice,  temperance,  courage,  piety,  patriotism, 
etc.,  wrere,  and  unless  he  did  know  what  they  were  he 
would  not  be  just,  temperate,  etc.  He  denied  that  men 
can  know  that  on  which  they  have  bestowed  no  pains,  or 
practice  what  they  do  not  know.  "  The  method  of  Soc 
rates  survives  still  in  some  of  the  dialogues  of  Plato,  and 
is  a  process  of  eternal  value  and  universal  application. 
There  is  no  man  whose  notions  have  not  been  first  got 
together  by  spontaneous,  unartificial  associations,  resting 
upon  forgotten  particulars,  blending  together  disparities 
or  inconsistencies,  and  having  in  his  mind  old  and  familiar 


830  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII- 

phrases  and  oracular  propositions  of  which  he  has  never 
rendered  to  himself  an  account ;  and  there  is  no  man  who 
has  not  found  it  a  necessary  branch  of  self-education  to 
break  up,  analyze,  and  reconstruct  these  ancient  mental 
compounds."  l  The  services  which  he  rendered  to  philoso 
phy,  as  enumerated  by  Tennemann,2  "are  twofold,  —  neg 
ative  and  positive :  Negative,  inasmuch  as  he  avoided  all 
vain  discussions  ;  combated  mere  speculative  reasoning  on 
substantial  grounds,  and  had  the  wisdom  to  acknowledge 
ignorance  when  necessary,  but  without  attempting  to  de 
termine  accurately  what  is  capable,  and  what  is  not,  of 
being  accurately  known.  Positive,  inasmuch  as  he  ex 
amined  with  great  ability  the  ground  directly  submitted  to 
our  understanding,  and  of  which  man  is  the  centre." 

Socrates  cannot  be  said  to  have  founded  a  school,  like 
Xenophanes.  He  did  not  bequeath  a  system  of  doctrines ; 
he  rather  attempted  to  awaken  inquiry,  for  which  his 
method  was  admirably  adapted.  He  had  his  admirers, 
who  followed  in  the  path  which  he  suggested.  Among 
these  were  Aristippus,  Antisthenes,  Euclid  of  Megara, 
Phsedo  of  Elis,  and  Plato,  all  of  whom  were  disciples  of 
Socrates,  and  founders  of  schools.  Some  only  partially 
adopted  his  method,  and  all  differed  from  each  other. 
Nor  can  it  be  said  that  all  of  them  advanced  science.  Ar 
istippus,  the  founder  of  the  Cyreniac  School,  was  a  sort 
of  Epicurean,  teaching  that  pleasure  was  the  end  of  life. 
Antisthenes,  the  founder  of  the  Cynics,  was  both  virtuous 
and  arrogant,  placing  the  supreme  good  in  virtue,  but  de 
spising  speculative  science,  and  maintaining  that  no  man 
can  refute  the  opinions  of  another.  He  made  it  a  virtue  to 

1  Grote  has  written  very  ably,  and  at  unusual  length,  respecting  Socrates  and 
his  philosophy.    Thirlwall  has  also  reviewed  Hegel  and  other  German  authors  on 
Socrates'  condemnation.     Kilter  has  a  full  chapter  of  great  value.     See  Donald 
son's  continuation  of  Miiller.    The  original  sources  of  knowledge  respecting  Soc 
rates  are  found  chiefly  in  Plato  and  Xenophon.    Cicero  may  be  consulted  in  his 
Tusculan  Questions. 

2  Tennemann;  Schliermacker,  Essay  on  the  Worth  of  Socrates  as  a  Philosopher, 
translated  by  Bishop  Thirlwall,  and  reprinted  in  Dr.  Wigger's  Life  of  Socrates. 


CHAP.  VIIL] 


Plato.  3B1 


be  ragcred,  hungry,  and  cold,  like  the  ancient  monks;  an 
austere,  stern,  bitter,  reproachful  man,  who  affected  to 
despise  all  pleasures,  like  his  own  disciple  Diogenes,  who 
lived  in  a  tub,  and  carried  on  a  war  between  the  mind  and 
body -brutal,  scornful,  proud.  To  men  who  maintained 
that  science  was  impossible,  philosophy  is  not  much  in 
debted,  although  they  were  disciples  of  Socrates.  Euclid 
merely  gave  a  new  edition  of  the  Eleatic  doctrines,  and 
Phaedo  speculated  on  the  oneness  of  the  good. 

It  was  not  till  Plato  arose  that  a  more  complete  system 
of  philosophy  was   founded.      He  was   born   of      p^ 
noble  Athenian  parents  B.  c.  429,  the  year  that 
Pericles  died,  and   the  second  year  of  the  Peloponnesian 
War,  and  the  most  active  period  of  Grecian  thought.     He 
had  a  severe  education,  studying  poetry,  music,  rhetoric, 
and     blending    these    with    philosophy.       He    was    only 
twenty  when  he  found  out  Socrates,  with  whom  he  re 
mained  ten  years,  and  from  whom  he  was  separated  only 
by  death.     He  then  went  on  his  travels,  visiting  n^uca- 
every  thing  worth  seeing  in  his  day,  especially  in   travels. 
Eo-vpt.    When  he  returned,  he  commenced  to  teach  the 
doctrines  of  his  master,  which  he  did,   like  him,   gratui 
tously,  in  a  garden  near  Athens,  planted  with  lofty  plane- 
trees,  and  adorned  with  temples  and  statues.     This  was 
called  the  Academy,  and  gave  a  name  to  his  system  of 
philosophy.     And  it  is  this  only  with  which  we  have  to  do. 
It  is  not"  the  calm,  serious,  meditative,  isolated  man  that  I 
would  present,  but  his  contribution  to  the  developments  of 
philosophy  on  the  principles  of  his  master.     And  surely  no 
man  ever  made  a  richer  contribution.     He  may  not  have 
had  the  originality  or  breadth  of  Socrates,  but  he  was  more 
profound.     He  was  preeminently  a  great  thinker  —  a  great 
logician  —  skilled   in  dialectics,  and  his  "Dialogues"  are 
such  exercises  of  dialectical  method  that  the  ancients,  were 
divided  whether    he   was  a  skeptic  or  a  dogma-  geg 
tist.     He  adopted  the  Socratic  method,  and  en-  method. 


332  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

larged  it,  "  Socrates  relied  on  inductive  reasoning,  and  on 
definitions,  as  the  two  principles  of  investigation.  Defi 
nitions  form  the  basis  of  all  philosophy.  To  know  a  thing, 
you  must  know  what  it  is  not.  Plato  added  a  more  effi 
cient  process  of  analysis  and  synthesis,  of  generalization 
and  classification."  1  "  Analysis,"  continues  the  same 
author,  "  as  insisted  on  by  Plato,  is  the  decomposition  of 
the  whole  into  its  separate  parts  —  is  seeing  the  one  in 
many.  Definitions  were  to  Plato,  what  general  or  abstract 
ideas  were  to  later  metaphysicians.  The  individual  thing 
was  transitory  ;  the  abstract  idea  was  eternal.  Only  con 
cerning  the  latter  could  philosophy  occupy  itself.  Socrates, 
insisting  on  proper  definitions,  had  no  conception  of  the 
classification  of  those  definitions  which  must  constitute 
philosophy.  Plato,  by  the  introduction  of  this  process, 
shifted  philosophy  from  the  ground  of  inquiries  into  man 
and  society,  which  exclusively  occupied  Socrates,  to  that 
of  dialectics."  Plato  was  also  distinguished  for  skill  in 
composition.  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  classes  him  with 
Herodotus  and  Demosthenes  in  the  perfection  of  his  style, 
which  is  characterized  by  great  harmony  and  rhythm,  as 
well  as  the  variety  of  elegant  figures.2 

Plato  made  philosophy  to  consist  in  the  discussion 
His  doc-  °f  general  terms,  or  abstract  ideas.  General 
terms  were  synonymous  with  real  existences, 
and  these  were  the  only  objects  of  philosophy.  These 
were  called  Ideas  ;  and  ideas  are  the  basis  of  his  system, 
or  rather  the  subject  matter  of  dialectics.  He  was  a  Real 
ist,  that  is,  he  maintained  that  every  general  term,  or  ab 
stract  idea,  has  a  real  and  independent  existence.  Here  he 
probably  was  indebted  to  Pythagoras,  for  Plato  was  a  mas 
ter  of  the  whole  realm  of  philosophical  speculation  ;  but 
his  conception  of  ideas  is  a  great  advance  on  the  concep 
tion  of  numbers.  He  was  taught  by  Socrates  that  beyond 

1  Lewes,  Bwg.  Hist,  of  Philos. 

2  See  Donaldson's  quotations,  Hist.  Lit.  of  Greece,  vol.  ii.  p.  257. 


CHAP,  vin.]  Philosophy  of  Plato.  333 

this  world  of  sense,  there  was  the  world  of  eternal  truth, 
and  that  there  were  certain  principles  concerning  which 
there  could  be  no  dispute.  The  soul  apprehends  the  idea 
of  goodness,  greatness,  etc.  It  is  in  the  celestial  world 
that  we  are  to  find  the  realm  of  ideas.  Now  God  is  the 
supreme  idea.  To  know  God  should  be  the  great  aim  of 
life.  We  know  him  by  the  desire  which  like  feels  for  like. 
The  divinity  within  feels  for  the  divinity  revealed  in 
beauty,  or  any  other  abstract  idea.  The  longing  of  the 
soul  for  beauty  is  Love.  Love  then  is  the  bond  which 
unites  the  human  to  the  divine.  Beauty  is  not  revealed 
by  harmonious  outlines  which  appeal  to  the  senses,  but  is 
Truth.  It  is  divinity.  Beauty,  truth,  love,  these  are  God, 
the  supreme  desire  of  the  soul  to  comprehend,  and  by  the 
contemplation  of  which  the  mortal  soul  sustains  itself,  and 
by  perpetual  meditation  becomes  participant  in  immortality. 
The  communion  with  God  presupposes  immortality.  The 
search  for  the  knowledge  of  God  is  the  great  end  of  life. 
Wisdom  is  the  consecration  of  the  soul  to  the  search  ;  and 
this  is  effected  by  dialectics,  for  only  out  of  dialectics  can 
correct  knowledge  come.  But  man,  immersed  in  the  flux 
of  sensualities,  can  never  fully  attain  this  high  excel 
lence  —  the  knowledge  of  God,  the  object  of  all  rational 
inquiry.  Hence  the  imperfection  of  all  human  knowledge. 
The  supreme  good  is  attainable  ;  it  is  not  attained.  God 
is  the  immutable  good,  and  justice  the  rule  of  the  uni 
verse.  "  The  vital  principle  of  his  philosophy  is  to  show 
that  true  science  is  the  knowledge  of  the  good;  The  end  of 

>  •      i  -i  -i      .  n  -i  .*~i  science  is 

is  the   eternal  contemplation  or  truth,  or  ideas  ;   the  contem- 

...  111  11-       plation  of 

and  though  man  may  not  be  able  to  apprehend  it  truth. 
in  its  unity,  because  he  is  subject  to  the  restraints  of  the 
body,  he  is,  nevertheless,  permitted  to  recognize  it,  imper 
fectly,  by  calling  to  mind  the  eternal  measure  of  existence, 
by  which  he  is  in  his  origin  connected."  l  He  was  unable 
to  find  a  transition  from  his  world  of  ideas  to  that  of  Sense, 

i  Ritter,  Hist,  of  Phil,  b.  viii.  p.  2,  chap.  i. 


384  Grrecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP,  vm 

and  his  philosophy,  vague  and  mystical,  though  severely 
logical,  diverts  the  mind  from  the  investigations  of  actual 
life  —  from  that  which  is  the  object  of  experience. 

The  writings  of  Plato  have  come  down  to  us  complete, 
The  object      and    have    been    admired   by  all    ages    for   their 

of  Plato's  *  *5 

inquiries.  philosophical  acutencss,  as  well  as  beauty  of  lan 
guage.  He  was  not  the  first  to  use  the  form  of  dialogue, 
but  he  handled  it  with  greater  mastery  than  any  one  who 
preceded  him,  or  has  come  after  him,  and  all  with  a  view 
to  bring  his  hearers  to  a  consciousness  of  knowledge  or  ig 
norance.  He  regarded  wisdom  as  the  attribute  of  the  god 
head  ;  that  philosophy  is  the  necessity  of  the  intellectual 
man,  and  the  greatest  good  to  which  he  can  attain.  This 
wisdom  presupposes,  however,  a  communion  with  the  di 
vine.  He  regarded  the  soul  as  immortal  and  indestructi 
ble.  He  maintained  that  neither  happiness  nor  virtue  can 
consist  in  the  attempt  to  satisfy  our  unbridled  desires  ;  that 
virtue  is  purely  a  matter  of  intelligence  ;  that  passions  dis 
turb  the  moral  economy.  % 

"  When  we  review  the  doctrines  of  Plato,  it  is  impossi 
ble  to  deny,"  says  Ritter,  "  that  they  are  pervaded  with  a 
grand  view  of  life  and  the  universe.  This  is  the  noble 
Go(Uh.8im-  thought  which  inspired  him  to  say,  that  God  is 
good.  the  constant  and  immutable  good  ;  the  world  is 

good  in  a  state  of  becoming,  and  the  human  soul  that  in 
and  through  which  the  good  in  the  world  is  to  be  consum 
mated.  In  his  sublimer  conception,  he  shows  himself  the 
worthy  disciple  of  Socrates.  His  merit  lies  chiefly  in  hav 
ing  advanced  certain  distinct  and  precise  rules  for  the 
Socratic  method,  and  in  insisting,  with  a  perfect  conscious 
ness  of  its  importance,  upon  the  law  of  science,  that  to  be 
able  to  descend  from  the  higher  to  the  lower  ideas  by  a 
principle  of  the  reason,  and  reciprocally  from  the  multi 
plicity  of  the  lower  to  the  higher,  is  indispensable  to  the 
perfect  possession  of  any  knowledge.  He  thus  imparted  to 
this  method  a  more  liberal  character.  While  he  adopted 


CHAP,  viii.]          Estimate  of  Archer  Butler  335 

many  of  the  opinions  of  his  predecessors,  and  gave  due  con 
sideration  to  the  results  of  the  earlier  philosophy,  he  did 
not  allow  himself  to  be  disturbed  by  the  mass  of  conflicting 
theories,  but  breathed  into  them  the  life-giving  breath  of 
unity.  He  may  have  erred  in  his  attempts  to  determine 
the  nature  of  good  ;  still  he  pointed  out  to  all  who  aspire 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  divine  nature,  an  excellent  road 
by  which  they  may  arrive  at  it." 

Plato  is  very  much  admired  by  the  Germans,  who  look 
upon  him  as  the  incarnation  of  dialectical  power  ;  but  it 
were  to  be  hoped  that,  some  day,  these  great  metaphysi 
cians  may  make  a  clearer  exposition  of  his  doctrines,  and 
of  his  services  to  philosophy,  than  they  have  as  yet  done. 
To  me,  Ritter,  Brandis,  and  all  the  great  authorities,  are 
obscure.  But  that  Plato  was  one  of  the  greatest  lights  of 
the  ancient  world,  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt.  Nor 
is  it  probable  that,  as  a  dialectician,  he  has  ever  been  sur 
passed  ;  while  his  purity  of  life,  and  his  lofty  inquiries,  and 
his  belief  in  God  and  immortality,  make  him,  in  an  ethical 
point  of  view,  the  most  worthy  of  the  disciples  of  Socrates. 
He  was  to  the  Greeks  what  Kant  was  to  the  Germans,  and 
these  two  great  thinkers  resemble  each  other  in  the  struct 
ure  of  their  minds  and  their  relations  to  society. 

The  ablest  part  of  the  lectures  of  Archer  Butler  of 
Dublin,  is  devoted  to  the  Platonic  philosophy.  It  is  a 
criticism  and  an  eulogium.  No  modern  writer  has  written 
more  enthusiastically  of  what  he  considers  the  crowning 
excellence  of  the  Greek  philosophy.  The  dialectics  of 
Plato,  his  ideal  theory,  his  physics,  his  psychology,  and  his 
ethics,  are  most  ably  discussed,  and  in  the  spirit  of  a  loving 
and  eloquent  disciple.  He  represents  the  philosophy  which 
he  so  much  admires  as  a  contemplation  of,  and  the  ten 
dency  to,  the  absolute  and  eternal  good.  The  good  is  en 
throned  by  Plato  in  majesty  supreme  at  the  summit  of  the 
whole  universe,  and  the  sensible  world  is  regarded  as  a 
development  of  supreme  perfection  in  an  inferior  and  tran- 


336  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.VIII. 

sitory  torm.  Nor  are  ideas  abstractions,  as  some  suppose, 
but  archetypal  conceptions  of  the  divine  mind  itself —  the 
eternal  laws  and  reasons  of  things.  The  sensible  world  is 
regarded  as  an  imperfect  image  of  ideal  perfection,  yet  the 
uncertainty  of  physical  researches  is  candidly  admitted. 
The  discovery  of  theological  and  moral  truth,  is  the  great 
object  even  of  the  "  Timceus"  Hence  the  physics  of  Plato 

have  a    theological    character  —  are    mathematical  rather 

& 

than  experimental.  The  psychology  represents  the  body  as 
the  prison  of  the  soul,  somewhat  after  the  spirit  of  ori 
ental  theogonists,  and  the  aim  of  virtue  is  to  preserve  the 
distinctness  of  both,  and  realize  liberty  in  bonds.  The 
doctrine  of  preexistence  is  maintained,  as  well  as  a  future 
state.  In  the  ethics,  the  perfection  of  the  human  soul  —  the 
perfection  which  it  may  attain — is  distinctly  unfolded,  and 
also  the  unity  of  the  great  ideas  of  the  beautiful,  just,  and 
good.  The  "Phcedo  "  enforces  the  supremacy  of  wisdom, 
and  the  "Philebus  "  the  "  summum  bonum."  Love  is  the 
aspiration  after  a  communion  with  perfection.  The  chief 
excellence  of  the  philosophy  which  Plato  taught,  consists 
in  the  immutable  basis  assigned  to  the  principles  of  moral 
truth  ;  the  defects  are  a  want  of  distinct  apprehension  of 
the  claims  of  divine  justice  in  consequence  of  human  sin, 
and  an  indirect  discouragement  of  active  virtue. 

The  great  disciple  of  Plato  was  Aristotle,  and  he  car 
ried  on  the  philosophical  movement  which  Socrates  had 
started  to  the  highest  limit  that  it  ever  reached  in  the  an 
cient  world.  He  was  born  at  Stagira  B.  c.  384,  of  wealthy 
parents,  and  early  evinced  an  insatiable  thirst  for  knowl 
edge.  When  Plato  returned  from  Sicily  he  joined  his 
disciples,  and  was  his  pupil  for  seventeen  years,  at  Athens. 
On  the  death  of  Plato,  he  went  on  his  travels,  and  became 
the  tutor  of  Alexander  the  Great,  and  B.  c.  335,  returned 
to  Athens,  after  an  absence  of  twelve  years,  and  set  up  a 
school,  and  taught  in  the  Lyceum.  He  taught  while  walk 
ing  up  and  down  the  shady  walks  which  surrounded  it, 


CHAP,  viii.]  Philosophy  of  Aristotle.  337 

from  which  he  obtained  the  name  of  Peripatetic,  which  has 
clung  to  his  name  and  philosophy.  His  school  had  a  great 
celebrity,  and  from  it  proceeded  illustrious  philosophers, 
statesmen,  historians,  and  orators.  He  taught  thirteen 
years,  during  whic  he  composed  most  of  his  greater 
works.  He  not  only  wrote  on  dialectics  and  logic,  but  also 
on  physics  in  its  various  departments.  His  work  on  "  The 
History  of  Animals  "  was  deemed  so  important  that  his  royal 
pupil  presented  him  with  eight  hundred  talents  —  an  enor 
mous  sum  —  for  the  collection  of  materials.  He  also  wrote 
on  ethics  and  politics,  history  and  rhetoric  ;  letters,  poems, 
and  speeches,  three  fourths  of  which  are  lost.  He  was 
one  of  the  most  voluminous  writers  of  antiquity,  and  prob 
ably  the  most  learned  man  whose  writings  have  come 
down  to  us.  Nor  has  any  one  of  the  ancients  exercised 
upon  the  thinking  of  succeeding  ages  so  great  an  influence. 
He  was  an  oracle  until  the  revival  of  learning. 

"Aristotle,"  says   Hegel,   "penetrated    into  the   whole 
mass,  and  into  every  department  of  the  universe   Gen}usof 
of  things,  and  subjected  to  the  comprehension  its  Anst< 
scattered  wealth  ;   and  the  greater  number  of   the  philo 
sophical  sciences  owe  to   him   their  separation  and   com 
mencement."  x     He  is  also  the  father  of  the  history  of 
philosophy,  since  he  gives  an  historical  review  of  the  way 
in  which  the  subject  has  been  hitherto  treated  by  the  ear 
lier  philosophers. 

"  Plato  made  the  external  world  the  region  of  the  incom 
plete  and  bad,  of  the  contradictory  and  the  false,  and  rec 
ognized  absolute  truth  only  in  the  eternal  immutable  ideas. 
Aristotle  laid  down  the  proposition  that  the  idea,  which 
cannot  of  itself  fashion  itself  into  reality,  is  powerless,  and 
has  only  a  potential  existence,  and  that  it  becomes  a  living 
reality,  only  by  realizing  itself  in  a  creative  manner  by 
means  of  its  own  energy."  2 

1  Hegel  is  said  to  have  comprehended  Aristotle  better  than  any  modern  writer, 
and  the  best  work  on  his  philosophy  is  by  him. 

2  Adolph  Stahr,  Oldenburg. 


338  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

But  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  his  marvelous  power  of 
vast  attain-    systematization.     Collecting  together  all  the  re- 
suits  of  ancient  speculation,  he  so  elaborated  them 


into  a  coordinate  system,  that  for  two  thousand  years  he 
reigned  supreme  in  the  schools.  In  a  literary  point  of 
view,  Plato  was  doubtless  his  superior,  but  Plato  was  a  poet 
making  philosophy  divine  and  musical  ;  but  Aristotle's  in 
vestigations  spread  over  a  far  wider  range.  He  wrote  also 
on  politics,  natural  history,  and  ethics,  in  so  comprehensive 
and  able  manner,  as  to  prove  his  claim  to  be  one  of  the 
greatest  intellects  of  antiquity,  the  most  subtle  and  the 
most  patient.  He  differed  from  Plato  chiefly  in  relation  to 
the  doctrine  of  ideas,  without  however  resolving  the  diffi 
culty  which  divided  them.  As  he  made  matter  to  be  the 
eternal  ground  of  phenomena,  he  reduced  the  notion  of  it 
to  a  precision  it  never  before  enjoyed,  and  established 
thereby  a  necessary  element  in  human  science.  But  being 
bound  to  matter,  he  did  not  soar,  as  Plato  did,  into  the 
higher  regions  of  speculation  ;  nor  did  he  entertain  as  lofty 
views  of  God,  or  of  immortality.  Neither  did  he  have  as 
high  an  ideal  of  human  life.  His  definition  of  the  highest 
good  was  a  perfect  practical  activity  in  a  perfect  life. 

With  Aristotle  closed  the  great  Socratic  movement  in 
the  history  of  speculation.  When  Socrates  appeared  there 
was  the  general  prevalence  of  skepticism,  arising  from  the 
unsatisfactory  speculations  respecting  nature.  He  removed 
this  skepticism  by  inventing  a  new  method,  and  by  with 
drawing  the  mind  from  the  contemplation  of  nature,  to 
the  study  of  man  himself.  He  bade  men  to  look  in 
ward. 

Plato  accepted  his  method,  but  applied  it  more  univer- 
Ethiesthe  sally.  Like  Socrates,  however,  ethics  were  the 

great  sub-  ,.  p  ,  .  ..  i  •    i         i 

jectof  in-      great  subject  of  his  inquiries,  to  which  physics 

quiry  with  .  J        ,         ,.  ^  „,  ,  .  v  i  A 

piato.  were  only  subordinate.     The  problem  he  sought 

to  solve  was  the  way  to  live  like  the  gods.  He  would 
contemplate  truth  as  the  great  aim  of  life. 


CHAP.  VIII.]     Doctrines  of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  3L9 

With  Aristotle,  ethics  formed  only  one  branch  of  his 
attention.     His  main  inquiries  were  in  reference 
to  physics  and  metaphysics.     He  thus,  by  bring- 
ing  these  into  the  region  of  inquiry,  paved  the 
way  for  a  new  epoch  of  skepticism.1  metaphysics. 

it  is  impossible,  within  the  proper  limits  of  this  chapter, 
to  enter  upon  an  analysis  of  the  philosophy  of  either  the 
three  great  lights  of  the  ancient  world,  or  to  enumerate  and 
describe  their  other  writings.  I  merely  wish  to  show  what 
are  considered  to  be  the  vital  principles  on  which  their  sys 
tems  were  based,  and  the  general  spirit  of  their  specula 
tions.  The  student  must  examine  these  in  the  elaborate 
treatises  of  modern  philosophers,  and  in  the  original  works 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle. 

Both  Plato  and  Aristotle  taught  that  reason  alone  could 
form    science ;    but    Aristotle    differed   from    his  Their  char- 
master  respecting  the  theory  of  ideas.     He  did  inquiries, 
not  deny  to  ideas  a  subjective  existence,  but  he  did  deny 
that  they  have  an  objective  existence.     And  he  maintained 
that  the' individual  things  alone  existed,  and  if  individuals 
only  exist,  they  can  only  be  known  by  sensation.     Sensa 
tion  thus  becomes  the   basis  of  knowledge.     Plato  made 
reason  the  basis  of  knowledge,  but  Aristotle  made  experi 
ence.     Plato  directed  man  to  the  contemplation  of  ideas  ; 
Aristotle,  to  the   observations  of  Nature.     Instead  of  pro 
ceeding  synthetically  and  dialectically  like  Plato,  he  pur 
sues  an  analytic  course.     His  method  is  hence  inductive  — 
the  derivation  of  certain  principles  from  a  sum  of  given 
facts  and  phenomena.     It  would  seem  that  positive  science 
commenced  with  him,  since  he  maintained  that  experience 
furnishes  the  principles  of  every  science  ;  but,  while    his 
conception  was  just,  there   was    not  sufficient  experience 
then  accumulated  from  which    to   generalize  with   effect. 
He  did  not  sufficiently  verify  his  premises.     His  reasoning 

i  Lewes.  Hitter,  Hegel,  Maurice,  Diogenes  Laertius.    See  fine  article  in  Ency 
clopedia  Bniannica.     Schwegler,  translated  by  Seelyn. 


?40  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIIJ. 

was  correct  upon  the  data  given,  as  in  the  famous  syllogism, 
"  All  black  birds  are  crows ;  this  bird  is  black  ;  therefore 
this  bird  is  a  crow."  The  defect  of  the  syllogism  is  not  in 
the  reasoning,  but  in  the  truth  of  the  major  premise,  since 
all  black  birds  are  not  crows.  It  is  only  a  most  extensive 
and  exhaustive  examination  of  the  accuracy  of  a  proposi 
tion  which  will  warrant  reasoning  upon  it.  Ai'istotle  rea 
soned  without  sufficient  examination  of  the  major  premise 
of  his  syllogisms. 

Aristotle  was  the  father  of  logic,  and  Hegel  and  Kant 
Logic  of  think  there  has  been  no  improvement  upon  it 
Aristotle.  since  his  day.  And  this  became  to  him  the  real 
organon  of  science.  "  He  supposed  it  was  not  merely  the 
instrument  of  thought,  but  the  instrument  of  investiga 
tion."  Hence  it  was  futile  for  purposes  of  discovery, 
although  important  to  aid  the  processes  of  thought.  In 
duction  and  syllogism  are  the  two  great  instruments  of  his 
logic.  The  one  sets  out  from  particulars  already  known  to 
arrive  at  a  conclusion  ;  the  other  sets  out  from  some  gen 
eral  principle  to  arrive  at  particulars.  The  latter  more 
particularly  characterized  his  logic,  which  he  presented  in 
sixteen  forms,  showing  great  ingenuity,  and  useful  as  a 
dialectical  exercise.  This  syllogistic  process  of  reasoning 
would  be  incontrovertible,  if  the  general  were  better  known 
than  the  particular.  But  it  is  only  by  induction,  which 
proceeds  from  the  world  of  experience,  that  we  reach  the 
higher  world  of  cognition.  We  arrive  at  no  new  knowl 
edge  by  the  syllogism,  since  the  major  premise  is  more 
evident  than  the  conclusion,  and  anterior  to  it.  Thus  he 
made  speculation  subordinate  to  logical  distinctions,  and 
his  system,  when  carried  out  by  the  schoolmen,  led  to  a 
spirit  of  useless  quibbling.  Instead  of  interrogating  Na 
ture,  as  Bacon  led  the  way,  they  interrogated  their  own 
minds,  and  no  great  discoveries  were  made.  From  a  want 
of  a  proper  knowledge  of  the  conditions  of  scientific  in 
quiry,  the  method  of  Aristotle  became  fruitless.1 

1  Maurice,  Anc.  Phil.     See  Whewell,  Hist.  Ind.  Science. 


CHAP,  viii.]  The  Skeptics.  341 

Though  Aristotle  wrote  in  a  methodical  manner,  yet 
there  is  great  parsimony  of  language.  There  is  no  fasci 
nation  in  his  style.  It  is  without  ornament,  and  very 
condensed.  His  merit  consisted  in  great  logical  precision, 
and  scrupulous  exactness  in  the  employment  of  terms. 

Philosophy,  as  a  great  system  of  dialectics,  as  an  analy 
sis  of  the  power  and  faculties  of  the  mind,  as  a  method  to 
pursue  inquiries,  as  an  intellectual  system  merely,  culmi 
nated  in  Aristotle.  He  completed  the  great  fabric  of 
which  Thales  laid  the  foundation.  The  subsequent  schools 
of  philosophy  directed  attention  to  ethical  and  practical 
questions,  rather  than  to  intellectual  phenomena.  The 
skeptics,  like  Pyrrho,  had  only  negative  cloc- 

•  i  u     i      "j-    i    •         f     i_  •          •   •  i-l      TheSkeptics. 

tnnes,  and  had  a  disdain  ot  those  inquiries  which 
sought  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  existence.  They  did 
not  believe  that  absolute  truth  was  attainable  by  man. 
And  they  attacked  the  prevailing  systems  with  great  plau 
sibility.  Thus  Sextus  attacked  both  induction  and  defini 
tions.  "  If  we  do  not  know  the  thing  we  define,"  said  he, 
"  we  do  not  comprehend  it  because  of  the  definition,  but 
we  impose  on  it  the  definition  because  we  know  it  ;  and  if 
we  are  ignorant  of  the  thing  we  would  define,  it  is  impos 
sible  to  define  it."  Thus  the  skeptics  pointed  out  the 
uncertainty  of  things  and  the  folly  of  striving  to  compre 
hend  them. 

The  Epicureans  despised  the  investigations  of  philosophy, 
since,  in  their  view,  they  did  not  contribute  to  happiness. 
The  subject  of  their  inquiries  was  happiness,  not  truth. 
What  will  promote  this,  was  the  subject  of  their  specula 
tion.  Epicurus,  born  B.  c.  342,  contended  that  pleasure 
was  happiness ;  that  pleasure  should  not  be  sought  for  its 
own  sake,  but  with  a  view  of  the  happiness  of  life  obtained 
by  it.  He  taught  that  it  was  inseparable  from  virtue,  and 
that  its  enjoyments  should  be  limited.  He  was  averse  to 
costly  pleasures,  and  regarded  contentedness  with  a  little 
to  be  a  great  good.  He  placed  wealth  not  in  great  posses- 


Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  vm 

sions,  but  few  wants.     He  sought  to  widen  the  domain  of 
pleasure,  and  narrow  that  of  pain,  and  regarded  a  passion- 
less   state  of  life   the  highest.     Nor  did   he   dread  death 
which  was  deliverance  from  misery.     Epicurus  has  been 
much  misunderstood,  and  his  doctrines  were  subsequently 
perverted,  especially  when  the    arts  of  life  were  brought 
into  the  service  of  luxury,  and  a  gross  materialism  was  The 
great  feature  of  society.     Epicurus  had  much  of  the  prac 
tical    spirit  of  a   philosopher,   although  very  little  of  the 
earnest   cravings   of  a   religious    man.     He' himself  led  a 
virtuous  life,  because  it  was  wiser  and  better  to  be  Mi-to 
ons,  not  because  it  was  his  duty.     His  writings  were  very 
voluminous,  and  in  his  tranquil  garden   he  led  a  peaceful 
e  of  study  and  enjoyment.     His  followers,  and  they  were 
numerous,  were  led  into  luxury  and  effeminacy,  as  was  to 
3  expected  from   a  skeptical   and   irreligious* philosophy 
the  great  principle  of  which  was  that  whatever  is  pleasant 
should  be  the  object  of  existence.1 

The  Stoics  were  a  large  and  celebrated  sect  of  philos 
ophers  ;  but  they  added  nothing  to  the  domain  of  thought 
they  created  no  system,  they  invented  no  new  method' 
they  were  led  into  no  new  psychological  inquiries.     Their 
inquiries  were  chiefly  ethical.     And  if  ethics  are  a  part  of 
the    great    system   of  Grecian    philosophy,  they  are   well 
worthy  of  attention.     Some  of  the  greatest  men  of  antiq 
uity  are  numbered  among  them— like  Seneca  and  Mar 
cus  Aurelius.     The  philosophy  they  taught  was  morality, 
ind  this  was  eminently  practical  and  also  elevated. 

The  founder  of  this  sect,  Zeno,  born  rich,  but  reduced 
zeno.  to  P°verty  by  misfortune,  was  a  very  remarkable 

man,  and  a  very  good  one,  and  profoundly  re 
vered  by  the  Athenians,  who  intrusted  him  with  the  keys 
of  their  citadel.     The  date  of  his  birth  is  unknown,  but  he 
lived  in  a  degenerate  age,  when  skepticism  and  sensuality 
we    eating   out   the  life  and    vigor  of  Grecian   society, 

1  The  doctrines  of  the  Epicureans  are  best  set  forth  in  Lucretius. 


CBAP.  viii.]  Doctrines  of  the  Stoics. 

when  Greek  civilization  was  rapidly  passing  away,  -when 
ancient  creeds  had  lost  their  majesty,  and  general  levity 
and  folly  overspread  the  land.     Deeply  impressed  with  the 
prevailing  laxity  of  morals  and  the  absence  of  religion,  he 
lifted  up  his  voice,  more  as  a  reformer  than  as  an  inquirer 
after  truth,  and  taught  for  more  than  fifty  years  ma  place 
called  the  Porch,  which  had  once  been  the  resort  of  the 
poets.     He  was  chiefly  absorbed  with   etlncal  questions 
'although   he  studied  profoundly   the    systems  of  the  old 
philosophers.     He  combated  Plato's   doctrine   that  virtue 
consists  in  contemplation,  and  of  Epicurus,  that  ,t  consisted 
in  pleasure.     Man,  in  his  eyes,  was  made  for  active  dut.es. 
He  also  sought  to  oppose  skepticism,  which  was  outing  the 
funereal  veil  of  doubt  and   uncertainty  over  every  thing 
pertaining  to  the  soul,  and  God,  and  the  future  life.       The 
skeptics  had  attacked  both  perception  and  reason.      They 
had  shown  that  perception  is,  after  all,  based  upon  appear 
ance,  and  appearance  is  not  a  certainty  ;  and  they  showed 
that  reason  is  unable  to  distinguish  between  appearance 
and   certainty,  since   it   had   nothing   but   phenomena  to 
build  upon,  and  since  there  is  no  criterion  to  apply  to  rea 
son  itself"     Then  they  proclaimed  philosophy  a  failure, 
and  without  foundation:     But  he,  taking  a  stand  on  com 
mon  sense,  fought  for  morality,  as  did  Reid  and  Beattie, 
when  they  combated  the  skepticism  of  Hume. 

Philosophy,  according  to  Zeno  and  other  Stoics,  was 
intimately  connected  with  the  duties  of  practical  i*chta-«f 
life      The  contemplation,  recommended  by  Plato 
and  Aristotle,  seemed  only  a  covert  recommendation  of 
selfish  enjoyment.     The  wisdom,  which   it  should  be  the 
aim  of  life  to  attain,  is  virtue.     And  virtue  is  to  live  har 
moniously  with  nature.     To  live  harmoniously  with  nature 
is  to  exclude  all  personal  ends.     Hence  pleasure  is  to  be 
disregarded,  and  pain  is  to  be  despised.     And  as  all  moral 
action  must  be  in  harmony  with  nature,  the  law  of  destiny 
is  supreme,  and  all  things  move  according  to  !mmu 


344  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

fate.  With  the  predominant  tendency  to  the  universal 
which  characterized  their  system,  the  Stoics  taught  that 
the  sage  ought  to  regard  himself  as  a  citizen  of  the  world 
rather  than  of  any  particular  city  or  state.  They  made 
four  things  to  be  indispensable  to  virtue :  a  knowledge 
of  good  and  evil,  which  is  the  province  of  the  reason  ; 
temperance,  a  knowledge  of  the  due  regulation  of  the  sen 
sual  passions  ;  fortitude,  a  conviction  that  it  is  good  to  suffer 
what  is  necessary ;  and  justice,  or  acquaintance  with  what 
ought  to  be  to  every  individual.  They  made  perfection 
necessary  to  virtue,  and  saw  nothing  virtuous  in  the  mere 
advance  to  it.  Hence  the  severity  of  their  system.  The 
influence  of  perfect  sage,  according  to  them,  is  raised  above 
the  stoics.  a]j  influence  of  external  events;  he  submits  to 
the  law  of  destiny  ;  he  is  exempt  from  desire  and  fear,  joy 
or  sorrow  ;  he  is  not  governed  even  by  what  he  is  ex 
posed  to  necessarily,  like  sorrow  and  pain  ;  he  is  free 
from  the  restraints  of  passion  ;  he  is  like  a  god  in  his 
mental  placidity.  Nor  must  the  sage  live  only  for  him 
self,  but  for  others;  he  is  a  member  of  the  whole  body 
of  mankind ;  he  ought  to  marry,  and  to  take  part  in  public 
affairs,  but  he  will  never  give  way  to  compassion  or  forgive 
ness,  and  is  to  attack  error  and  vice  with  uncompromising 
sternness.  But  with  this  ideal,  the  Stoics  were  forced  to 
admit  that  virtue,  like  true  knowledge,  although  attainable, 
is  beyond  the  reach  of  man.  They  were  discontented  with 
themselves,  and  with  all  around  them,  and  looked  upon  all 
institutions  as  corrupt.  They  had  a  profound  contempt  of 
their  age,  and  of  human  attainments ;  but  it  cannot  be  de 
nied  they  practiced  a  lofty  and  stern  virtue,  and  were  the 
best  people  in  their  degenerate  times.  Their  God  was 
made  subject  to  Fate,  and  he  was  a  material  god,  synony 
mous  with  Nature.  Thus  their  system  was  pantheistic. 
But  they  maintained  the  dignity  of  reason,  and  the  ideal 
in  nature,  the  actualization  of  which  we  should  strive  after, 
though  without  the  hope  of  reaching  it.  "  As  a  reaction 


CHAP,  viii.]     Summary  of  Grecian  Speculation.  345 

against  effeminacy,  Stoicism  may  be  applauded ;  as  a  doc 
trine,  it  is  one-sided,  and  ends  in  apathy  and  egotism."  1 

With  the  Stoics  ended  all  inquiry  among  the  Greeks 
of  a  philosophical  nature  worthy  of  especial  mention,  until 
philosophy  was  revived  in  the  Christian  schools  of  Alexan 
dria,  where  faith  was  united  with  reason.  The  Stoics 
endeavored  to  establish  the  certitude  of  human  knowledge 
in  order  that  they  might  establish  the  truth  of  moral  prin 
ciples,  and  the  basis  of  their  system  was  common  sense, 
with  which  they  attacked  the  godless  skepticism  of  their 
times,  and  raised  up  a  barrier,  feeble  though  it  was,  to  pre 
vailing  degeneracy.  The  struggles  of  so  many  great  think 
ers,  from  Thales  to  Aristotle,  all  ended  in  doubt  and  in 
despair.  It  was  discovered  that  all  of  them  were  wrong, 
but  that  their  error  was  without  a  remedy. 

The  bright  and  glorious  period  of  Grecian  philosophy  was 
from    Socrates   to    Aristotle.      Philosophical    in-  BrMat 
quiries    began    about   the   origin   of  things,   and   SS^°f 
ended  with   an  elaborate  systematization  of  the   Philos°Phy- 
forms  of  thought,  which  was  the  most  magnificent  triumph 
that  the  unaided  intellect  of  man  ever  achieved.     Socrates 
founds  a  school,  but  does  not  elaborate  a  system.     He  re 
veals  most  precious  truths,  and  stimulates  the  youth  who 
listen  to  his  instructions  by  the  doctrine  that  it  is  the  duty 
of  man  to  pursue  a  knowledge  of  himself,  which  is  to  be 
sought  in  that  divine  reason  which  dwells  within  him  and 
which  also  rules  the  world.     He  confides  in  science  ;  he 
loves  truth  for  its  own  sake  ;  he  loves  virtue,  which  con 
sists  in  the  knowledge  of  the  good. 

Plato  seizes  his  weapons  and  is  imbued  with  his  spirit. 
He   is  full  of  hope    for   science   and   humanity. 
With  soaring  boldness  he  directs  his  inquiries  to 
futurity,  dissatisfied  with  the  present,  and  cherishing  a  fond 
hope  of  a  better  existence.     He  speculates  on  God  and  the 

1  See  Cicero,  De  Fin.  and  Tusculan  Questions ;  Diogenes  Laertius  on  Zeno. 
This  historian  is  quite  full  on  this  subject,  and  seems  to  furnish  the  basis  for 
Kitter. 


346  G-recian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

soul.  He  is  not  much  interested  in  physical  phenomena. 
He  does  not,  like  Thales,  strive  to  find  out  the  beginning 
of  all  things,  but  the  highest  good,  by  which  his  immortal 
soul  may  be  refreshed  and  prepared  for  the  future  life  he 
cannot  solve,  yet  in  which  he  believes.  The  sensible  is  an 
impenetrable  empire,  but  ideas  are  certitudes,  and  upon 
these  he  dwells  with  rapt  and  mystical  enthusiasm, —  a 
great  poetical  rhapsodist  like  Xenophanes,  severe  dialecti 
cian  as  he  is,  believing  in  truth  and  beauty  and  goodness. 

Then  Aristotle,  following  out  the  method  of  his  teachers, 
attempts  to  exhaust  experience,  and  directs  his  inquiries 
into  the  outward  world  of  sense  and  observation,  but  all 
with  the  view  of  discovering  from  phenomena  the  uncon 
ditional  truth,  in  which  he,  too,  believes.  But  every  thing  in 
this  world  is  fleeting  and  transitory,  and,  therefore,  it  is  not 
easy  to  arrive  at  truth.  A  cold  doubt  creeps  into  the  experi 
mental  mind  of  Aristotle  with  all  his  learning  and  all  his  logic. 
The  Epicureans  arise.  They  place  their  hopes  in  sen 
sual  enjoyment.  They  despair  of  truth.  But  the  world 
will  not  be  abandoned  to  despair.  The  Stoics  rebuke  the 
impiety  which  is  blended  with  sensualism,  and  place  their 
hopes  on  virtue.  But  it  is  unattainable  virtue,  while  their 
God  is  not  a  moral  governor,  but  subject  to  necessity. 

Thus  did  those  old  giants  grope  about,  for  they  did  not 
know  the  God  who  was  revealed  unto  Abraham,  and  Mo 
ses,  and  David,  and  Isaiah.  They  solved  nothing,  since 
they  did  not  know^  even  if  they  speculated  on,  the  Great 
First  Cause.  And  yet,  with  all  their  errors,  they  were  the 
greatest  benefactors  of  the  ancient  world.  The}'  gave  dig 
nity  to  intellectual  inquiries,  while  they  set,  by  their  lives, 
examples  of  a  pure  morality  —  not  the  morality  of  the  gos 
pel,  but  the  severest  virtue  practiced  by  the  old  guides  of 
mankind. 

The  Romans  added  absolutely  nothing  to  the  philosophy 
Philosophy     of  the  Greeks.     Nor  were  they  much  interested 
in   any   speculative   inquiries.     It  was  only  the 


CHAP,  viii.]  Eclecticism  of  Cicero.  347 

ethical  views  of  the  old  sages  which  had  attraction  or  force 
to  them.  They  were  too  material  to  love  pure  subjective 
inquiries.  They  had  conquered  the  land  ;  they  disdained 
the  empire  of  the  air. 

There  were,  doubtless,  students  of  the  Greek  philosophy 
among  the  Romans,  perhaps  as  early  as  Cato  the  Followers  of 
Censor.    But  there  were  only  two  persons  of  note 
who  wrote  philosophy,  till  the  time  of  Cicero,  Aurafanius 
and  Rubinus,  and  these  were  Epicureans. 

Cicero  was  the  first  to  systematize  the  philosophy  which 
contributed  so  greatly  to  his  intellectual  culture.      ^^ 
But  even   he   added   nothing.      He   was   only  a 
commentator  and  expositor.     Nor  did  he  seek  to  found  a 
system  or  a  school,  but  merely  to  influence  and  instruct 
men  of  his  own  rank.     He  regarded  those  subjects,  which 
had  the  greatest  attraction  for  the  Grecian  schools,  to  be 
beyond    the    power  of  human    cognition,  and,    therefore, 
looked  upon  the  practical  as  the  proper  domain  of  human 
inquiry.     Yet  he  held  logic  in  great  esteem,  as  furnishing 
rules  for  methodical  investigation.     He  adopted  the  doc 
trine  of  Socrates  as  to  the  pursuit  of  moral  good.     He  re 
garded  the  duties  which  grow  out  of  the  relations  of  human 
society  preferable  to  the  obligations  of  pursuing  scientific  re 
searches.    Although  a  great  admirer  of  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
he  regarded  patriotic  calls  of  duty  as  paramount  to  any  study 
of  scfence  or  philosophy,  which  he  thought  was  involved 
in  doubt.     He  had  a  great  contempt  for  knowledge  which 
could  neither  lead  to  the  clear  apprehension  of  certitude, 
nor  to  practical  applications.     He  thought  it  impossible  to 
arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  God,  or  the  nature  of  the  soul, 
or  the  origin  of  the  world.     And  he  thus  was  led  to  look 
upon  the  Sensible  and  the  present  as  of  more  importance 
than  inconclusive  inductions,  or  deductions  from  a  truth 
not  satisfactorily  established. 

Cicero  was  an  Eclectic,  seizing  on  what  was  true  and  clear 
in  the  ancient  systems,  and  disregarding  what  was  simply  a 


348  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP,  vm 

matter  of  speculation.  This  is  especially  seen  in  his  treatise 
mseciecti-  "  ^e  Finibus  Bonorum  et  Malorum,"  in  which  the 
opinions  of  all  the  Grecian  schools  concerning  the 
supreme  good  are  expounded  and  compared.  Nor  does  he 
hesitate  to  declare  that  happiness  consists  in  the  cognition 
of  nature  and  science,  which  is  the  true  source  of  pleasure 
both  to  gods  and  men.  Yet  these  are  but  hopes,  in  which 
it  does  not  become  us  to  indulge.  It  is  the  actual,  the 
real,  the  practical,  which  preeminently  claims  attention  ;  in 
other  words,  the  knowledge  which  will  but  furnish  man 
with  a  guide  and  rule  of  life.1  Indeed,  the  sum  of  Philos 
ophy,  to  the  mind  of  Cicero,  is  that  she  is  an  instructress 
and  a  comforter.  He  takes  an  entirely  practical  view  of 
the  end  of  philosophy,  which  is  to  improve  the  mind,  and 
make  a  man  contented  and  happy.  For  philosophy  as  a 
science,  —  a  series  of  inductions  and  deductions,  —  he  had 
profound  contempt.  He  also  regards  the  doctrines  of 
philosophy  as  involved  in  doubt,  and  even  in  the  consider 
ation  of  moral  questions  he  is  pursued  by  the  conflict  of 
opinions,  although,  in  this  department,  he  is  most  at  home. 
The  points  he  is  most  anxious  to  establish  are  the  doctrines 
of  God  and  the  soul.  These  are  most  fully  treated  in  his 
essay,  "  De  Natura  Deorum,"  in  which  he  submits  the 
doctrines  of  the  Epicureans  and  the  Stoics  to  the  objections 
of  the  Academy.2  He  admits  that  man  is  unable  to  form 
true  conceptions  of  God,  but  acknowledges  the  necessity 
of  assuming  one  supreme  God  as  the  creator  and  ruler  of 
all  things,  moving  all  things,  remote  from  all  mortal  mix 
ture,  and  endued  with  eternal  motion  in  himself.  He 
seems  to  believe  in  a  divine  providence  ordering  good  to 
man  ;  in  the  soul's  immortality,  in  free-will,  in  the  dignity 
of  human  nature,  in  the  dominion  of  reason,  in  the  re 
straint  of  the  passions  as  necessary  to  virtue,  in  a  life  of 
public  utility,  in  an  immutable  morality,  in  the  imitation 
of  the  divine. 

1  De  Fin.,  v.  6.  2  j)e  tfat.  j)^  JH.  10. 


CHAP,  vni.]  Epictetus.  349 

The  doctrines  of  Cicero  on  ethical  subjects,  are  chiefly 
drawn  from  the  Stoics  and  Peripatetics.  They  are  Hisethic8 
opinions  drawn  sometimes  from  one  system  and 
sometimes  from  another.     Thus  he  agrees  with  the  disci 
ples  of  Aristotle,  that  health,  honors,  friends,  country,  are 
worthy  objects  of  desire.     Then  again,  he  coincides  with 
the  Stoics  that  passions  and  emotions  of  the  soul  are  vices. 
But  he  recedes  from  their  severe  tone,  which  elevated  the 
sage  too  high  above  his  fellow- men. 

Thus  there  is  little  of  original  thought  in  the  moral 
theories  of  Cicero,  and  these  are  the  result  of  Character  of 
observation  rather  than  of  any  philosophical  prin-  ^£1°" 
ciple.  We  might  enumerate  his  various  opin 
ions,  and  show  what  an  enlightened  mind  he  possessed  ; 
but  this  would  not  be  the  development  of  philosophy.  His 
views,  interesting  as  they  are,  and  generally  wise  and 
lofty,  yet  do  not  indicate  any  progress  of  the  science.  He 
merely  repeats  earlier  doctrines.  These  were  not  without 
their  utility,  since  they  had  great  influence  on  the  Latin 
fathers.  They  were  esteemed  for  their  general  enlighten 
ment.  He  softened  down  the  extreme  views  of  the  great 
thinkers  before  his  day,  and  clearly  unfolded  what  had  be 
come  obscured.  He  'is  a  critic  of  philosophy  ;  an  exposi 
tor  whom  we  can  scarcely  spare. 

If  any  body  advanced  philosophy  among  the  Romans,  it 
was  Epictetus,  and  he  even  only  in  the  realm  of  ethics. 
Quintius  Sextius,  in  the  time  of  Augustus,  had  revived  the 
Pythagorean  doctrines.  Seneca  had  recommended  the 
severe^morality  of  the  Stoics,  but  they  added  nothing  that 
was  not  previously  known.  The  Romans  had  no  talent 
for  philosophy,  although  they  were  acquainted  with  its 
various  systems.  Their  greatest  light  was  a  Phrygian 
slave. 

Epictetus  taught  in  the  time  of  Domitian,  and  though 
he  did  not  leave  any  written  treatises,  his  doc-  Epictetua 
trines  were  preserved  and  handed  down  by  his 


350  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHA;  .  vm. 

disciple  Arrian,  who  bad  for  him  the  reverence  that  Plato 
had  for  Socrates.  The  loftiness  of  his  recorded  views 
makes  us  feel  that  he  must  have  been  indebted  to  Chris 
tianity ;  for  no  one,  before  him,  has  revealed  precepts  so 
much  in  accordance  with  its  spirit.  He  was  a  Stoic,  but 
he  held  in  the  highest  estimation  Socrates  and  Plato.  It  is 
not  for  the  solution  of  metaphysical  questions  that  he  was 
remarkable.  He  was  not  a  dialectician,  but  a  moralist, 
and,  as  such,  takes  the  highest  ground  of  all  the  old  in 
quirers  after  truth.  With  him,  philosophy,  as  it  was  to 
Cicero  and  Seneca,  is  a  wisdom  of  life.  He  sets  no  value 
on  logic,  nor  much  on  physics  ;  but  he  reveals  sentiments 
of  great  simplicity  and  grandeur.  His  great  idea  is  the 
purification  of  the  soul.  He  believes  in  the  severest  self- 
denial  ;  he  would  guard  against  the  syren  spells  of  pleas 
ure  ;  he  would  make  men  feel  that,  in  order  to  be  good, 
they  must  first  feel  that  they  are  evil ;  he  condemns 
suicide,  although  it  had  been  defended  by  the  Stoics  ;  he 
would  complain  of  no  one,  not  even  of  injustice ;  he  would 
not  injure  his  enemies  ;  he  would  pardon  all  offenses  ;  he 
would  feel  universal  compassion,  since  men  sin  from  igno 
rance  ;  he  would  not  easily  blame,  since  we  have  none  to 
condemn  but  ourselves  ;  he  would  not  strive  after  honor  or 
office,  since  we  put  ourselves  in  subjection  to  that  we  seek 
His  lofty  or  prize  ;  he  would  constantly  bear  in  mind  that 

ethical  n      i  •  •  i* 

system.  all  things  are  transitory,  and  that  they  are  not 
our  own  ;  he  would  bear  evils  with  patience,  even  as  he 
would  practice  self-denial  of  pleasure ;  he  would,  in  short, 
be  calm,  free,  keep  in  subjection  his  passions,  avoid  self- 
indulgence,  and  practice  a  broad  charity  and  benevolence. 
He  felt  he  owed  all  to  God  ;  that  all  was  his  gift,  and  that 
we  should  thus  live  in  accordance  with  his  will  ;  that  we 
should  be  grateful  not  only  for  our  bodies,  but  for  our 
souls,  and  reason,  by  which  we  attain  to  greatness.  And 
if  God  has  given  us  such  a  priceless  gift,  we  should  be  con 
tented,  and  not  even  seek  to  alter  our  external  relations, 


CHAP,  viii.]  G-eneral   Observations.  851 

which  are  doubtless  for  the  best.  We  should  wish,  indeed, 
for  only  what  God  wills  and  sends,  and  we  should  avoid 
pride  and  haughtiness,  as  well  as  discontent,  and  seek  to 
fulfill  our  allotted  part.1 

Such  were  the  moral  precepts  of  Epictetus,  in  which  we 
see    the    nearest   approach    to    Christianity   that  Marcus 
had  been  made  in  the  ancient  world.     And  these   Aurelius- 
sublime  truths  had  a  great  influence,  especially  on  the  mind 
of  the  most  lofty   and  pure  of  all  the  Roman  emperors, 
Marcus  Aurelins,  who  lived  the  principles  he  had  learned 
from  a  slave,  and  whose  "  Maxims  "  are  still  held  in  ad 
miration. 

Thus  did  the  speculations  about  the  beginning  of  things 
lead  to  elaborate  systems  of  thought,  and  end  in   General 

^  t  .  observa- 

practical  rules  of  life,  until,  in  spirit,  they  had,  turns, 
with  Epictetus,  harmonized  with  many  of  the  revealed 
truths  which  Christ  and  his  Apostles  laid  down  for  the  re 
generation  of  the  world.  Who  cannot  see  in  the  inquiries 
of  the  old  philosopher,  whether  into  nature,  or  the  opera 
tions  of  mind,  or  the  existence  of  God,  or  the  immortality 
of  the  soul,  or  the  way  to  happiness  and  virtue,  a  magnifi 
cent  triumph  of  human  genius,  such  as  has  been  exhibited 
in  no  other  department  of  human  science  ?  We  regret 
that  our  limits  preclude  a  more  extended  view  of  the 
various  systems  which  the  old  sages  propounded  —  systems 
full  of  errors,  yet  also  marked  by  important  truths,  but 
whether  false  or  true,  showing  a  marvelous  reach  of  the 
human  understanding.  Modern  researches  have  discarded 
many  opinions  which  were  highly  valued  in  their  day,  yet 
philosophy,  in  its  methods  of  reasoning,  is  scarcely  ad 
vanced  since  the  time  of  Aristotle  ;  while  the  subjects 
which  agitated  the  Grecian  schools,  have  been  from  time 
to  time  revived  and  rediscussed,  and  are  still  unsettled. 
If  any  science  has  gone  round  in  perpetual  circles,  inca 
pable,  apparently,  of  progression  or  rest,  it  is  that  glorious 

1  A  tine  translation  of  Epictetus  has  been  published  by  Little  and  Brown. 


352  Grecian  Philosophy.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

field  of  inquiry  which  has  tasked  more  than  any  other  the 
mightiest  intellects  of  this  world,  and  which,  progressive  or 
not,  will  never  be  relinquished  without  the  loss  of  what  is 
most  valuable  in  human  culture. 

For  original  authorities  in  reference  to  the  matter  of  this  chapter, 
read  Diogenes  Laertius'  Lives  of  the  Philosophers;  the  Writings  of 
Plato  and  Aristotle ;  Cicero,  De  Nat.,  De  Or.,  De  (Me.,  De  Div.,  De 
Fin.,  Tusc.  Qusest. ;  Xenophon,  Memorabilia ;  Boethius,  De  Idea  Hist. 
Phil. ;  Lucretius. 

The  great  modern  authorities  are  the  Germans,  and  these  are  very 
numerous.  Among  the  most  famous  writers  on  the  history  of  philos 
ophy,  are  Bruckner,  Hegel,  Brandis,  I.  G.  Buhle,  Tennemann,  Ritter, 
Plessing,  Schvvegler,  Hermann,  Meiners,  Stallbaum,  and  Speugel. 
The  history  of  Ritter  is  well  translated,  and  is  always  learned  and 
suggestive.  Tennemann,  translated  by  Morell,  is  a  good  manual,  brief, 
but  clear.  In  connection  with  the  writings  of  the  Germans,  the  great 
work  of  Cousin  should  be  consulted. 

The  English  historians  of  ancient  philosophy  are  not  so  numerous  as 
the  Germans.  The  work  of  Enfield  is  based  on  Bruckner,  or  is  rather 
an  abridgment.  Archer  Butler's  Lectures  are  suggestive  and  able, 
but  discursive  and  vague,  as  is  the  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy  by 
Maurice.  Grote  has  written  learnedly  on  Socrates  and  the  other  great 
lights.  Lewes'  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy  has  the  merit  of 
clearness,  and  is  very  interesting,  but  rather  superficial.  Henry  has 
written  a  good  epitome.  See  also  Stanley's  History  of  Philosophy,  and 
the  articles  in  Smith's  Dictionary,  on  the  leading  ancient  philosophers. 
Donaldson's  continuation  of  Miiller's  History  of  the  Lit.  of  Greece,  is 
learned,  and  should  be  consulted  with  Thompson's  Notes  on  Archer 
Butler.  There  are  also  fine  articles  in  the  Encyclopedias  Britannica 
and  Metropolitana.  Schleirmacher,  on  Socrates,  translated  by  Bishop 
Thirlwall. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SCIENTIFIC    KNOWLEDGE    AMONG    THE    ROMANS. 

IT  would  be  absurd  to  claim  for  the  ancients  any  great 
attainments  in  science,  such  as  they  made  in  the  field  of 
letters  or  the  realm  of  art.  It  is  in  science,  especially 
when  applied  to  practical  life,  that  the  moderns  show  their 
great  superiority  to  the  most  enlightened  nations  of  antiq 
uity.  In  this  great  department,  modern  genius  shines 
with  the  lustre  of  the  sun.  It  is  this  which  most  strikingly 
attests  the  advance  of  society,  which  makes  their  advance 
a  most  incontestible  fact.  It  is  this  which  has  distinguished 

C5 

and  elevated  the  races  of  Europe  more  triumphantly  than 
what  has  resulted  from  the  combined  energies  of  Greeks 
and  Romans  in  all  other  departments  combined.  With 
the  magnificent  discoveries  and  inventions  of  the  last  three 
hundred  years  in  almost  every  department  of  science, — 
especially  in  physics,  in  the  explorations  of  distant  seas  and 
continents,  in  the  analysis  of  chemical  compounds,  in  the 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens,  in  the 
wonders  of  steam  and  electricity,  in  mechanical  appli 
ance  to  abridge  human  labor  or  destroy  human  life,  in 
astronomical  researches,  in  the  miracles  which  inventive 
genius  has  wrought,  —  seen  in  our  ships,  our  manufactories, 
our  wondrous  instruments,  our  printing-presses,  wonders  of 
our  observatories,  our  fortifications,  our  labora-  science, 
tories,  our  mills,  our  machines  to  cultivate  the  earth,  to 
make  our  clothes,  to  build  our  houses,  to  multiply  our 
means  of  offense  and  defense,  to  make  weak  children  do 
the  work  of  Titans,  to  measure  our  time  with  the  accuracy 

23 


354     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

of  the  orbit  of  the  planets,  to  use  the  sun  itself  in  perpetu 
ating  our  likenesses  to  distant  generations,  to  cause  a  needle 
to  guide  the  mariner  with  assurance  on  the  darkest  night, 
to  propel  a  heavy  ship  against  the  wind  and  tide  without 
oars  or  sails,  to  make  carnages  ascend  mountains  without 
horses  at  the  rate  of  thirty  miles  an  hour,  to  convey  intelli 
gence  with  the  speed  of  lightning  from  continent  to  conti 
nent,  under  oceans  that  ancient  navigators  never  dared  to 
cross  ;  these  and  other  wonders  attest  an  ingenuity  and 
audacity  of  intellect  which  would  have  overwhelmed  with 
amazement  the  most  adventurous  of  Greeks  and  the  most 
potent  of  Romans.  The  achievements  of  modern  science 
settle  forever  the  question  as  to  the  advance  of  society  and 
the  superiority  of  modern  times  over  those  of  the  most 
favored  nations  of  antiquity.  But  the  great  discoveries 
and  inventions  to  which  we  owe  this  marked  superiority 
are  either  accidental  or  the  result  of  generations  of  experi 
ment,  assisted  by  an  immense  array  of  ascertained  facts 
from  which  safe  inductions  can  be  made.  It  is  not,  prob 
ably,  the  superiority  of  the  Teutonic  races  over  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  to  which  we  may  ascribe  the  wonderful  ad 
vance  of  modern  society,  but  the  particular  direction 
Every  great  which  genius  was  made  to  take.  Had  the  Greeks 
gSLhXfor  given  the  energy  of  their  minds  to  mechanical 

something         p  .  ,.  ,  .  .  .  .    . 

never  after-  forces  as  they  did  to  artistic  creations,  they  might 
equaled.  have  made  wonderful  inventions.  But  it  was  so 
ordered  by  Providence.  Nor  was  the  world  in  that  stage 
of  development  when  this  particular  direction  of  intellect 
would  have  been  favored.  There  were  some  things  which 
the  Greeks  and  Romans  exhausted,  some  fields  of  labor 
and  thought  in  which  they  never  have  been,  and,  perhaps, 
never  will  be,  surpassed  ;  and  some  future  age  may  direct 
its  energies  into  channels  which  are  as  unknown  to  us  as 
clocks  and  steam-engines  were  to  the  Greeks.  This  is  the 

& 

age  of  mechanism  and  of  science,  and  mechanism  and 
science  sweep  every  thing  before  them,  and  will  probably 


CHAP,  ix.]          Astronomy  among  the  Ancients.  355 

be  carried  to  their  utmost  capacity  and  development. 
Then  the  human  mind  may  seek  some  new  department, 
some  new  scope  for  energies,  and  a  new  age  of  wonders 
may  arise,  —  perhaps  after  the  present  dominant  races 
shall  have  become  intoxicated  with  the  greatness  of  their 
triumphs  and  have  shared  the  fate  of  the  old  monarchies 
of  the  East.  But  I  would  not  speculate  on  the  destinies 
of  the  European  nations,  whether  they  are  to  make  indefi 
nite  advances,  until  they  occupy  and  rule  the  whole  world, 
or  are  destined  to  be  succeeded  by  nations  as  yet  unde 
veloped,  —  savages,  as  their  fathers  were  when  Home  was 
in  the  fullness  of  material  wealth  and  grandeur.  We  know 
nothing  of  the  future.  We  only  know  that  all  nations  are 
in  the  hands  of  God,  who  setteth  up  and  pulleth  down 
according  to  his  infinite  wisdom. 

I  have  shown  that  in  the  field  of  artistic  excellence,  in 
literary  composition,  in  the  arts  of  government  and  legisla 
tion,  and  even  in  the  realm  of  philosophical  speculations, 
the  ancients  were  our  schoolmasters,  and  that  among  them 
were  some  men  of  most  marvelous  genius,  who  have  had 
no  superiors  among  us. 

But  we  do  not  see  the  exhibition  of  genius  in  what  we 
call  science,  at  least  in  its  application  to  practical  The  ancients 
life.  It  would  be  difficult  to  show  any  depart-  theappUe*. 

0  I'll  •  .       1  tion  °f 

inent  ot  science  which  the  ancients  carried  to  any  science, 
degree   of  perfection.     Nevertheless,   there   were   depart 
ments  in  which  they  made  noble  attempts,  and   in  which 
they  showed  considerable  genius,  even  if  they  were  unsuc 
cessful  in  great  practical  results. 

Astronomy  was  one  of  these.  So  far  as  mathematical 
genius  is  concerned,  so  far  as  astronomy  taxed  Labors  of  the 

.•i  •  ,  _,  ancients  in 

the  reasoning  powers,  such  men  as  Eratosthenes,  astronomy. 
Aristarchus,  Hipparchus,  and  Ptolemy  were  great  lights, 
of  whom  humanity  may  be   proud  ;  and,  had   they  been 
assisted  by  our  modern  accidental  inventions,  they  might 
have  earned  a  fame  scarcely  eclipsed  by  that  of  Kepler  and 


356      Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

Newton.  The  Ionic  philosophers  added  but  little  to  the 
realm  of  true  philosophy,  but  they  were  pioneers  of  thought, 
and  giants  in  their  native  powers.  The  old  astronomers 
did  as  little  as  they  to  place  science  on  a  true  foundation, 
but  they  showed  great  ingenuity,  and  discovered  some  great 
truths  which  no  succeeding  age  has  repudiated.  They  de 
termined  the  circumference  of  the  earth  by  a  method  iden 
tical  with  that  which  would  be  employed  by  modern 
astronomers.  They  ascertained  the  position  of  the  stars 
by  right  ascension  and  declination.  They  knew  the  obliq 
uity  of  the  ecliptic,  and  determined  the  place  of  the  sun's 
apogee  as  well  as  its  mean  motion.  Their  calculations  on 
the  eccentricity  of  the  moon  prove  that  they  had  a  recti 
linear  trigonometry  and  tables  of  chords.  They  had  an 
approximate  knowledge  of  parallax.1  They  could  calculate 
eclipses  of  the  moon,  and  use  them  for  the  correction  of 
their  lunar  tables.  They  understood  spherical  trigonometry, 
and  determined  the  motions  of  the  sun  and  moon,  involving 
an  accurate  definition  of  the  year,  and  a  method  of  pre 
dicting  eclipses.  They  ascertained  that  the  earth  was  a 
sphere,  and  reduced  the  phenomena  of  the  heavenly  bodies 
to  uniform  movements  of  circular  orbits.2  We  have  settled, 
by  physical  geography,  the  exact  form  of  the  earth,  but 
the  ancients  arrived  at  their  knowledge  by  astronomical 
reasoning.  "  The  reduction  of  the  motions  of  the  sun, 
moon,  and  five  planets  to  circular  orbits,  as  was  done  by 
Hipparchus,  implies  deep  concentrated  thought  and  scien 
tific  abstraction.  The  theory  of  eccentrics  and  epicycles 
accomplished  the  end  of  explaining  all  the  known  phenom 
ena.  The  resolution  of  the  apparent  motions  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  into  an  assemblage  of  circular  motions, 
was  a  great  triumph  of  genius,3  and  was  equivalent  to  the 
most  recent  and  improved  processes  by  which  modern  as 
tronomers  deal  with  such  motions." 

1  Delambre,  Hist.  (fAstr.  Anc.,  torn.  1,  p.  184. 

2  Lewis,  Hist,  of  Astron.,  p.  209. 

8  Whewell,  Hint.  Indue.  Science,  v.  i.  p.  181. 


CHAP,  ix.]  Oriental  Speculation.  357 

But  I  will  not  here  enumerate  the  few  discoveries  which 
were  made  by  the  Alexandrian  school.  I  only  wish  to 
show  that  there  are  a  few  names  among  the  ancients  which 
are  inscribed  on  the  roll  of  great  astronomers,  limited  as 
were  the  triumphs  of  the  science  itself.  But,  until  the  time 
of  Aristarchus,  most  of  the  speculations  were  crude  and 
useless.  Nothing  can  be  more  puerile  than  the  notions  of 
the  ancients  respecting  the  nature  and  motions  of  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

Astronomy  was  probably  born  in  Chaldea  as  early  as  the 
time  of  Abraham.     The  glories  of  the  firmament  Astronomy 
were  impressed  upon  the  minds  of  the  rude  prim- 


itive  races  with  an  intensity  which  we  do  not  feel  with  all 
the  triumphs  of  modern  science.  The  Chaldean  shepherds, 
as  they  watched  their  flocks  by  night,  noted  the  movements 
of  the  planets,  and  gave  names  to  the  more  brilliant  con 
stellations.  Before  religious  rituals  were  established,  be 
fore  great  superstitions  arose,  before  poetry  was  sung, 
before  musical  instruments  were  invented,  before  artists 
sculptured  marble  or  melted  bronze,  before  coins  were 
stamped,  before  temples  arose,  before  diseases  were  healed 
by  the  arts  of  medicine,  before  commerce  was  known,  be 
fore  heroes  were  born,  those  oriental  shepherds  counted 
the  hours  of  anxiety  by  the  position  of  certain  constella 
tions.  Astronomy  is,  therefore,  the  oldest  of  the  ancient 
sciences,  although  it  remained  imperfect  for  more  than  four 
thousand  years.  The  old  Assyrians,  Egyptians,  and  Greeks 
made  but  few  discoveries  which  are  valued  by  modern  as 
tronomers,  but  they  laid  the  foundation  of  the  science,  and 
ever  regarded  it  as  one  of  the  noblest  subjects  which  could 
stimulate  the  faculties  of  man.  It  was  invested  with  all 
that  was  religious  and  poetical. 

The  spacious  level   and  unclouded  horizon  of  Chaldea 
afforded  peculiar  facilities  of  observation  ;  and  its   Di8COVeries 
pastoral  and    contemplative    inhabitants,   uncon-  ™euti!I 
taminated  by  the  vices  and  superstitions  of  sub-  natlon8- 


358     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

sequent  ages,  active-minded  and  fresh,  discovered,  after 
a  long  observation  of  eclipses  —  some  say  extending  over 
nineteen  centuries  —  the  cycle  of  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
three  lunations,  which  brings  back  the  eclipses  in  the  same 
order.  Having  once  established  their  cycle,  they  laid  the 
foundation  for  the  most  sublime  of  all  the  sciences.  Callis- 
thenes  transmitted  from  Babylon  to  Aristotle  a  collection 
of  observations  of  all  the  eclipses  that  preceded  the  conquests 
of  Alexander,  together  with  the  definite  knowledge  which 
the  Chaldeans  had  collected  about  the  motions  of  the  heav 
enly  bodies.  It  was  rude  and  simple,  and  amounted  to  little 
beyond  the  fact  that  there  were  spherical  revolutions  about 
an  inclined  axis,  and  that  the  poles  pointed  always  to  par 
ticular  stars.  The  Egyptians  also  recorded  their  observa 
tions,  from  which  it  would  appear  that  they  observed 
eclipses  at  least  one  thousand  six  hundred  years  before  the 
commencement  of  our  era.  Nor  is  this  improbable,  if  the 
speculations  of  modern  philosophers  respecting  the  age  of  the 
world  are  entitled  to  respect.  The  Egyptians  discovered, 
by  the  rising  of  Sirius,  that  the  year  consists  of  three  hun 
dred  and  sixty-five  and  one  quarter  days,  and  this  was 
their  sacred  year,  in  distinction  from  the  civil,  which  con 
sisted  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days.  They  also 
had  observed  the  courses  of  the  planets,  and  could  explain 
the  phenomena  of  the  stations  and  retrogradations,  and  it 
is  even  asserted  that  they  regarded  Mercury  and  Venus 
as  satellites  of  the  sun.  Some  have  maintained  that  the 
obelisks  which  they  erected  served  the  purpose  of  gnomons, 
for  determining  the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic,  the  altitude  of 
the  pole,  and  the  length  of  the  tropical  year.  It  is  thought 
that  even  the  Pyramids,  by  the  position  of  their  sides  to 
ward  the  cardinal  points,  attest  their  acquaintance  with  a 
meridional  line.  The  Chinese  boast  of  having  noticed  and 
recorded  a  series  of  eclipses  extending  over  a  period  of 
three  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fifty-eight  years,  and  it 
is  probable  that  they  anticipated  the  Greeks  two  thousand 


CHAP.  IX.]  Early  Greek  Discoveries.  359 

years  in  the  discovery  of  the  Metonic  cycle,  or  the  cycle 
of  nineteen  years,  at  the  end  of  which  time  the  new  moons 
fall  on  the  same  days  of  the  year.     They  determined  the 
obliquity  of  the  ecliptic,  one  thousand  one  hundred  years 
before  our  era,  to  be  23°  54'  3-15".     The  Indians,  at  a 
remote    antiquity,    represented   celestial    phenomena  with 
considerable   exactness,  and   constructed   tables  by  which 
the    longitude   of    the    sun    and    moon    are    determined. 
Bailly  thinks  that  astronomy  was  cultivated  in  Siam  three 
thousand  one  hundred  and  two  years  before  Christ,  which 
hardly  yields  in   accuracy  to  that  which  modern  science 
has   built   on    the    theory  of  universal    gravitation. 
Greeks  divided   the   heavens   into  constellations  fourteen 
centuries  before   Christ.     Thales,  born   640  B.   c.,  taught 
the  rotundity  of  the  earth,  and  that  the  moon  shines  with 
reflected  light.     He  also  predicted  eclipses.     Anaximan- 
der,  born  610  B.  c.,  invented  the  gnomon,  and  constructed 
geographical  charts. 

'  But  the  Greeks,  after  all,  were  the  only  people  of  an- 
tiquity  who  elevated  astronomy  to  the  dignity  of  The-rfy 
a  science.     They    however  confessed   that   they  -stigato- 
derived  their  earliest  knowledge  from  the  Babylonian  and 
Egyptian  priests,  while  the  priests  of  Thebes  asserted  that 
they  were  the  originators  of  exact  astronomical  observa 
tions.1    Diodorus  asserts  that  the  Chaldeans  used  the  Tem 
ple  of  Belus,  in  the  centre  of  Babylon,  for  their  survey  of  the 
heavens.2     But  whether  the  Babylonians  or  the  Egyptians 
were  the  earliest  astronomers,  it  is  of  little  consequence, 
although  the  pedants  make  it  a  grave  matter  of  investiga 
tion.     All  we  know  is,  that  astronomy  was  cultivated  by 
both  Babylonians  and  Egyptians,  and  that  they  made  but 
very  limited  attainments.     The  early  Greek  philosophers, 
who  visited  Egypt  and  the  East  in  search  of  knowledge, 
found  very  little  to  reward  their   curiosity  or  industry  ; 
not  much  beyond  preposterous  claims  to  a  high  antiquity, 

1  Died.,  i.  60.  *  Died.,  a.  9. 


360     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

and  an  esoteric  wisdom  which  has  not  yet  been  revealed. 
They  approximated  to  the  truth  in  reference  to  the  solar 
year,  by  observing  the  equinoxes  and  solstices,  and  the 
heliacal  rising  of  particular  stars.  Plato  and  Eudoxus 
spent  thirteen  years  in  Heliopolis  for  the  purpose  of  ex 
tracting  the  scientific,  knowledge  of  the  priests,  but  they 
learned  but  little  beyond  the  fact  that  the  solar  year  was  a 
trifle  beyond  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days.  No  great 
names  have  come  down  to  us  from  the  priests  of  Babylon 
or  Egypt.  No  one  gained  an  individual  reputation.  The 
Chaldean  and  Egyptian  priests  may  have  furnished  the 
raw  material  of  observation  to  the  Greeks,  but  the  latter 
alone  possessed  the  scientific  genius  by  which  indigested 
facts  were  converted  into  a  symmetrical  system.  The  East 
never  gave  valuable  knowledge  to  the  West.  It  gave  only 
superstition.  Instead  of  astronomy,  it  gave  astrology  ;  in 
stead  of  science,  it  gave  magic  and  incantations  and  dreams 
—  poison  which  perverted  the  intellect.1  They  connected 
their  astronomy  with  divination  from  the  stars,  and  made 
their  antiquity  reach  back  to  two  hundred  and  seventy 
thousand  years.  There  were  soothsayers  in  the  time  of 
Daniel,  and  magicians,  exorcists,  and  interpreters  of  signs.2 
They  were  not  men  of  scientific  research,  seeking  truth. 
It  was  power  they  sought,  by  perverting  the  intellect  of 
the  people.  The  astrology  of  the  East  was  founded  on  the 
principle  that  a  star  or  constellation  presided  over  the  birth 
of  an  individual,  and  either  portended  his  fate,  or  shed  a 
good  or  bad  influence  upon  his  future  life.  The  star  which 
looked  upon  a  child  at  the  hour  of  his  birth,  was  called  the 
horoscopus,  and  the  peculiar  influence  of  each  planet  was 
determined  by  professors  of  the  genethliac  art.  The  super 
stitions  of  Egypt  and  Chaldea  unfortunately  spread  both 
among  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  these  were  about  all 
that  the  western  nations  learned  from  the  boastful  priests 

1  Sir  G.  G.  Lewis,  Hist,  of  Anc.  Astran.,  p.  293. 

2  Dan.  i.  4,  17, 20. 


CHAP.  IX.]         Opinions  of  the  Early  Greeks.  361 

of  occult  science.     Whatever   was   known  of  real   value 
among  the  ancients,  is  due  to  the  earnest  inquiries  of  the 

Greeks. 

And  yet  their  researches  were  very  unsatisfactory  until 
the  time  of  Hipparchus.     The  primitive  knowl-   parches 
edge,   until   Thales,  was   almost    nothing.      The   Greeks.  ^ 
Homeric   poems   regarded   the    earth  as  a  circular  plain, 
bounded  by  the  heaven,  which  was  a  solid  vault  or  hemi 
sphere,  with  its   concavity  turned  downwards.     And  this 
absurdity  was   believed  until  the   time  of  Herodotus,  five 
centuries  after ;  nor  was  it  exploded  fully  in  the  time  of 
Aristotle.     The   sun,  moon,  and   stars,  were  supposed  to 
move  upon,  or  with,  the   inner  surface  of  the  heavenly 
hemisphere,  and  the  ocean  was  thought  to  gird  the  earth 
around  as  a  great  belt,   into  which  the  heavenly  bodies 
sunk    at    their   setting.1      Homer    believed    that   the    sun 
arose  out  of  the  ocean,  ascending  the  heaven,  and  again 
plunging  into  the  ocean,  passing  under  the  earth,  and  pro 
ducing  darkness.2     The  Greeks  even  personified  the  sun 
as  a  divine   charioteer  driving   his  fiery  steeds   over  the 
steep  of  heaven,  until  he  bathed  them  at  evening  in  the 
western   waves.     Apollo  became   the   god  of  the  sun,  as 
Diana  was  the  goddess  of  the  moon.     But  the  early  Greek 
inquirers  did  not  attempt  to  explain  how  the  sun  found  his 
way  from  the  west  back  again  to  the  east.     They  merely 
took   note  of   the  diurnal    course,  the   alternation  of  day 
and  night,  the  number  of  the   seasons,  and  their  regular 
successions.     They  found  the  points  of  the    compass  by 
determining  the  recurrence  of  the  equinoxes  and  solstices  ; 
but  they  had  no  conception  of  the  ecliptic  —  of  that  great 
circle  in  the  heaven,  formed  by  the  sun's  annual  course, 
and    of  its    obliquity  when    compared    with    the    equator. 
Like  the  Egyptians  and  Babylonians,  they  ascertained  the 
length  of  the  year  to  be  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  ; 
but"  perfect  accuracy  was   wanting  for  want  of  scientific 

i  //.,  vii.  422;   Od.,  iii.  i.  xix.  433.  2  U>,  v»i.  485. 


362     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

instruments,  and  of  recorded  observations  of  the  heavenly 
bodies.  The  Greeks  had  not  even  a  common  chronoW- 

O 

ical  era  for  the  designation  of  years.  Thus  Herodotus  in 
forms  us  that  the  Trojan  War  preceded  his  time  by  eight 
hundred  years  : 1  he  merely  states  the  interval  between 
the  event  in  question  and  his  own  time  ;  he  had  certain 
data  for  distant  periods.  Thus  the  Greeks  reckoned  dates 
from  the  Trojan  War,  and  the  Romans  from  the  building  of 
their  city.  And  they  divided  the  year  into  twelve  months, 
and  introduced  the  intercalary  circle  of  eight  years, 
although  the  Romans  disused  it  afterwards  until  the  calen 
dar  was  reformed  by  Julius  Caesar.  Thus  there  was  no 
scientific  astronomical  knowledge  worth  mentioning  among 
the  primitive  Greeks. 

Immense  research  and  learning  have  been  expended  by 
modern  critics,  to  show  the  state  of  scientific  astronomy 
among  the  Greeks.  I  am  equally  amazed  at  the  amount 
of  research,  and  its  comparative  worthlessness,  for  what 
addition  to  science  can  be  made  by  an  enumeration  of  the 
puerilities  and  errors  of  the  Greeks,  and  how  wasted  and 
pedantic  the  learning  which  ransacks  all  antiquity  to 
prove  that  the  Greeks  adopted  this  or  that  absurdity.2 

1  II,  ii.  53. 

2  The  style  of  modern  historical  criticism  may  thus  be  exemplified,  like  the 
discussions  of  the  Germans,  whether  the  Arx  on  the  Capitoline  Hill  occupied  the 
northeastern  or  southwestern  corner,  which  take  up  nearly  one  half  of  the  learned 
article  in  Smith's  Dictiannry,  on  the  Capitoline.     "  Thales  supposed  the  earth  to 

float  On  the  water,  like  a  plank  of  WOOd  "  :  oi  &'  e-V  vfiaros  Keur^ai  rovrov  yap  np^ai- 
oraTov  irapfL\ri<pafjLev  ^ov  hoyov  ov  (pa<riv  fiirfiv  6a\rj  rbv  MiXrjo'ioi'.  Aristot*,  DK  Cosl.j 
ii.  13:  *'  Qitce  scqultur  Thaletis  inepta  sententia  est.  Ait  enim  terrarum  orbem 
aqua  snstintri.'"  Seneca,  Nat.  Qucest.,  iii.  13.  This  notion  is  mentioned  in  Fchol. 
Kind,  xiii.  125.  This  doctrine  Thales  brought  from  Egypt.  See  Plut.,  Pac.,  iii. 
10;  Galen,  c.  21.  But  this  may  be  doubted.  Callimach.,  Frag.,  94;  Hygin,  Poet. 
Astr.,  ii.  2;  Martin,  Time'e  de  Platan  ,  torn.  ii.  p.  109,  thinks  it  questionable 
•whether  Thales  saw  Egvpt.  Diog.  Laert.,  viii.  60.  Compare,  however,  Sturz, 
Thales,  p.  80;  Proclus,  in  Tim.,  i.  p.  40;  Schol.  Aristophanes,  Mub.,  ii.  31;  Varro, 
ii.  vi.  10.  See  also,  Ideler  Chron.,  vol.  i.  p.  300.  But  Brandis  sheds  light  upon 
the  point,  though  his  suggestions  conflict  with  Origen,  Phil.,  p.  11;  also  with 
Aristotle,  De  C'cel.,  ii.  13. 

This  style  of  expending  learning  on  nothing,  meets  with  great  favor  with  the 
pedants,  who  attach  no  value  to  history  unless  one  half  of  the  page  is  tilled  with 


CHAP.  IX.]  The  Successors  of  Tholes. 

But  to  return.     The    earliest  historic  name  associated 
with     astronomy   in    Greece    was    Thales,    the       ^^ 
founder  of  the  Ionic  school  of  philosophers,  born 
639  B.  c.     He  is  reported  to  have  predicted  an  eclipse  of 
the  sun,  to  have  made  a  visit  to  Egypt,  to  have  fixed  the 
year  at  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days,  and  to  have  de 
termined  the   course  of  the  sun   from   solstice  to  solstice. 
He  attributed  an  eclipse  of  the  moon  to  the  interposition 
of  the  earth  between  the  sun  and  moon  ;  and  an  eclipse  of 
the  sun  to  the  interposition  of  the  moon  between  the  sun 
and   earth.1     He  also   determined  the   ratio  of  the  sun's 
diameter  to  its  apparent   orbit.     As  he  first    solved    the 
problem  of  inscribing  a  right-angled  triangle  in  a  circle,2 
he  is   the  founder  of  geometrical  science  in  Greece.     He 
left,  however,  nothing  to  writing,  hence   all  accounts  of 
him  are  confused.     It  is  to  be  doubted  whether  in  fact  he 
made  the  discoveries  attributed  to  him.     His  speculations, 
which  science  rejects,  such  as  that  water  is  the  principle  of 
all  things,  are  irrelevant  to  a  description  of  the  progress 
of  astronomy.     That  he  was   a   great  light,  no  one  ques 
tions,   considering  the  ignorance  with  which  he  was  sur 
rounded.      Anaximander,   who  followed   him  in   Amx^ 
philosophy,  held  to  puerile  doctrines  concerning  aximenes. 
the  motions  and  nature  of  the  stars,  which  it  is   useless 
to  repeat.     His  addition  to  science,  if  he  made  any,  was  in 
treating  the  magnitudes  and  distances  of  the  planets.     He 
attempted  to  delineate  the  celestial  sphere,  and  to  measure 
time  by  a  sun-dial.     Anaximenes  of  Miletus  taught,  like 
his  predecessors,  crude   notions  of  the  sun  and  stars,  and 
speculated  on  the  nature  of  the  moon,  but  did  nothing  to 
advance  his  science  on  true  grounds,  except  the  construction 
of  sun-dials.    The  same  may  be  said  of  Heraclitus,  Xenoph- 
anes,  Parmenides,  Anaxagoras.     They  were   great  men, 

erudite  foot-notes  which  few  can  verify,  and  which  prove  nothing,  or  nothing  of 
Hut.  of  Astran.,  p.  81.  2  Diog-  Laert,  i.  24. 


364     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

but  they  gave  to  the  world  mere  speculations,  some  of 
which  are  very  puerile.  They  all  held  to  the  idea  that 
the  heavenly  bodies  revolved  around  the  earth,  and  that 
the  earth  was  a  plain.  But  they  explained  eclipses,  and 
supposed  that  the  moon  derived  its  light  from  the  sun. 
Some  of  them  knew  the  difference  between  the  planets 
and  the  fixed  stars.  Anaxagoras  scouted  the  notion  that 
the  sun  was  a  god,  and  supposed  it  to  be  a  mass  of  ignited 
stone,  for  which  he  was  called  an  atheist. 

Socrates,  who   belonged   to  another  school,  avoided  all 
barren  speculations  concerning  the  universe,  and 

Socrates.  ,r,  . 

confined  himself  to  human  actions  and  interests. 
He  looked  even  upon  geometry  in  a  very  practical  way,  so 
far  as  it  could  be  made  serviceable  to  land  measuring.  As 
for  the  stars  and  planets,  he  supposed  it  was  impossible  to 
arrive  at  a  true  knowledge  of  them,  and  regarded  specula 
tions  upon  them  as  useless.  The  Greek  astronomers,  how 
ever  barren  were  their  general  theories,  still  laid  the  founda 
tion  of  science.  Pythagoras,  born  580  B.  c.,  taught 
the  obliquity  of  the  ecliptic,  probably  learned  in 
Egypt,  and  the  identity  of  the  morning  and  evening  stars. 
It  is  supposed  that  he  maintained  that  the  sun  was  the 
centre  of  the  universe,  and  that  the  earth  revolved  around 
it.  But  this  he  did  not  demonstrate,  and  his  whole  system 
was  unscientific,  assuming  certain  arbitrary  principles,  from 
which  he  reasoned  deductively.  "  He  assumed  that  fire 
is  more  worthy  than  earth  ;  that  the  more  worthy  place  must 
be  given  to  the  more  worthy  ;  that  the  extremity  is  more 
worthy  than  the  intermediate  parts  ;  and  hence,  as  the  cen 
tre  is  an  extremity,  the  place  of  fire  is  at  the  centre  of  the 
universe,  and  that  therefore  the  earth  and  other  heavenly 
bodies  move  round  the  fiery  centre."  But  this  was  no  heli 
ocentric  system,  since  the  sun  moved  like  the  earth,  in  a 
circle  around  the  central  fire.  This  was  merely  the  work 
of  the  imagination,  utterly  unscientific,  though  bold  and 
original.  Nor  did  this  hypothesis  gain  credit,  since  it  was 


CHAP.  IX.]    Eudoxus  the  Founder  of  Greek  Astronomy.    865 

the  fixed  opinion  of  philosophers,  that  the  earth  was  the 
centre  of  the  universe,  around  which  the  sun  and  moon  and 
planets  revolved.  But  the  Pythagoreans  were  the  first  to 
teach  that  the  motions  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  planets,  are 
circular  and  equable.  Their  idea  that  they  emitted  a 
sound,  and  were  combined  into  a  harmonious  symphony, 
was  exceedingly  crude,  however  beautiful.  "  The  music  of 
the  spheres"  belongs  to  poetry,  as  well  as  the  speculations 
of  Plato." 

Eudoxus,  who  was  born  406  B.  c.,  may  be  considered 
the  founder  of  scientific  astronomical  knowledge  Eudoxug 
among  the  Greeks.  He  is  reputed  to  have  vis 
ited  Egypt  with  Plato,  and  to  have  resided  thirteen  years 
in  Hefiopolis,  in  constant  study  of  the  stars,  communing 
with  the  Egyptian  priests.  His  contribution  to  the  science 
was  a  descriptive  map  of  the  heavens,  which  was  used  as  a 
manual  of  sidereal  astronomy  to  the  sixth  century  of  our 
era.  He  distributed  the  stars  into  constellations,  with 
recognized  names,  and  gave  a  sort  of  geographical  descrip 
tion  of  their  position  and  limits,  although  the  constellations 
had  been  named  before  his  time.  He  stated  the  periodic 
times  of  the  five  planets  visible  to  the  naked  eye,  but  only 
approximated  to  the  true  periods. 

The  error  of  only  one  hundred  and  ninety  days  in  the 
periodic  time  of  Saturn,  shows  that  there  had  been,  for  a 
long  time,  close  observations.  Aristotle,  whose  compre 
hensive  intellect,  like  that  of  Bacon,  took  in  all  forms  of 
knowledge,  condensed  all  that  was  known  in  his  day  in  a 
treatise  concerning  the  heavens.1  He  regarded  astronomy 
as  more  intimately  connected  with  mathematical  science 
than  any  other  branch  of  philosophy.  But  even  he  did 
not  soar  far  beyond  the  philosophers  of  his  day,  since  he 
held  to  the  immobility  of  the  earth  —  the  grand  error  of 
the  ancients.  Some  few  speculators  in  science,  like  Herac- 
litus  of  Pontus  and  Hicetas,  conceived  a  motion  of  the 

i  Delambre,  Hist,  de  FAstron.  Anc.,  torn.  i.  p.  301. 


366     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

earth  itself  upon  its  axis,  so  as  to  account  for  the  apparent 
motion  of  the  sun,  but  they  also  thought  it  was  in  the  cen 
tre  of  the  universe. 

The  introduction  of  the  gnomon  and  dial  into  Greece 
advanced  astronomical  knowledge,  since  they  were  used  to 
determine  the  equinoxes  and  solstices,  as  well  as  parts  of 
the  day.  Meton  set  up  a  sun-dial  at  Athens  in 
the  year  433  B.  c.,  but  the  length  of  the  hour 
varied  with  the  time  of  the  year,  since  the  Greeks  divided 
the  day  into  twelve  equal  parts.  Dials  were  common  at 
Rome  in  the  time  of  Plautus,  224  B.  c.  ; l  but  there  was  a 
difficulty  of  using  them,  since  they  failed  at  night  and  in 
cloudy  weather,  and  could  not  be  relied  on.  Hence  the 
introduction  of  water-clocks  instead. 

Aristarchus  is  said  to  have  combated  (280  B.  c.)  the 
Aristar-  geocentric  theory  so  generally  received  by  phi 
losophers,  and  to  have  promulgated  the  hypothe 
sis  "  that  the  fixed  stars  and  the  sun  are.  immovable  ;  that 
the  earth  is  carried  round  the  sun  in  the  circumference  of 
a  circle  of  which  the  sun  is  the  centre  ;  and  that  the 
sphere  of  the  fixed  stars  having  the  same  centre  as  the 
sun,  is  of  such  magnitude  that  the  orbit  of  the  earth  is  to 
the  distance  of  the  fixed  stars,  as  the  centre  of  the  sphere 
of  the  fixed  stars  is  to  its  surface."  2  This  speculation, 
resting  on  the  authority  of  Archimedes,  was  ridiculed  by 
him  ;  but  if  it  were  advanced,  it  shows  a  great  advance 
in  astronomical  science,  and  considering  the  age,  was  one 
of  the  boldest  speculations  of  antiquity.  Aristarchus  also, 
according  to  Plutarch,3  explained  the  apparent  annual 
motion  of  the  sun  in  the  ecliptic,  by  supposing  the  orbit  of 
the  earth  to  be  inclined  to  its  axis.  There  is  no  evidence 
that  this  great  astronomer  supported  his  heliocentric  theory 
with  any  geometrical  proof,  although  Plutarch  maintains 
that  he  demonstrated  it.4  This  theory  gave  great  offense, 
especially  to  the  Stoics,  and  Cleanthes,  the  head  of  the 

l  Ap.  Cell.,  N.  A.,  iii.  3.  2  Lewis,  p.  190. 

*  Plut.,  Plac.  Phil.,  ii.  24.  *  Quasi.  Plat.,  viii.  1. 


CHAP.  IX.]          Archimedes  and  Eratosthenes.  367 

school  at  that  time,  maintained  that  the  author  of  such  an 
impious  doctrine  should  be  punished.  Aristarchus  has  left 
a  treatise  "  On  the  Magnitudes  and  Distances  of  the  Sun 
and  Moon,"  and  his  methods  to  measure  the  apparent 
diameters  of  the  sun  and  moon,  are  considered  sound  by 
modern  astronomers,1  but  inexact  owing  to  defective  instru 
ments.  He  estimated  the  diameter  of  the  sun  at  the  seven 
hundred  and  twentieth  part  of  the  circumference  of  the 
circle,  which  it  describes  in  its  diurnal  revolution,  which  is 
not  far  from  the  truth  ;  but  in  this  treatise  he  does  not 
allude  to  his  heliocentric  theory. 

Archimedes,  born  287  B.  c.,  is  stated  to  have  measured 
the  distance  of  the  sun,  moon,  and   planets,  and   Arch}medeg 
he  constructed  an  orrery  in  which  he  exhibited 
their  motions.     But  it  was  not  in  the  Grecian  colony  of 
Syracuse,  but  of  Alexandria,  that  the  greatest  light  was 
shed  on  astronomical  science.     Here  Aristarchus  resided, 
and  also  Eratosthenes,  who    lived   between   the  Eratosthe- 
years  276   and  196  B.   c.     He  was  a  native  of  r 
Athens,  but  was  invited  by  Ptolemy  Euergetes  to  Alexan 
dria,  and   placed  at  the  head   of  the  library.     His  great 
achievement  was  the  determination  of  the  circumference 
of  the  earth.     This  was  done  by  measuring  on  the  ground 
the    distance    between    Syene,  a   city  exactly   under   the 
tropic,    and    Alexandria   situated   on   the  same    meridian. 
The  distance  was  found  to  be  five  thousand  stadia.     The 
meridional  distance  of  the  sun  from  the  zenith  of  Alexan 
dria,   he  estimated  to  be  7°  12',  or  a  fiftieth  part  of  the 
circumference   of  the    meridian.       Hence    the    circumfer 
ence  of  the   earth   was   fixed  at   two    hundred   and  fifty 
thousand  stadia,  not  far  from  the  truth.     The  circumfer 
ence  being  known,  the  diameter  of  the  earth  was  easily 
determined.      The  moderns   have   added  nothing    to  this 
method.     He  also  calculated  the  diameter  of  the  sun  to  be 
twenty-seven  times  greater  than  of  the  earth,  and  the  dis 
tance  *of  the  sun  from  the  earth  to  be  eight  hundred  and 

1  Lewis,  p.  193. 


368     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

four  million  stadia,  and  that  of  the  moon  seven  hundred 
and  eighty  thousand  stadia  —  a  very  close  approximation  to 
the  truth. 

Astronomical  science  received  a  great  impulse  from  the 
school  of  Alexandria,  and  Eratosthenes  had  worthy  succes 
sors  in  Aristarchus,  Aristyllus,  Apollonius.     But  the  great 
light  of  this  school  was  Hipparchus,  whose  lifetime 
extended  from  190  to  120  years  B.  c.   He  laid  the 
foundation  of  astronomy  upon  a  scientific  basis.   "  He  deter 
mined,"  says  Delambre,  "  the  position  of  the  stars  by  right 
ascensions  and  declinations  ;  he  was  acquainted  with  the 
obliquity  of  the  ecliptic.     He  determined  the  inequality  of 
the  sun,  and  the  place  of  its  apogee,  as  well  as  its  mean 
motion ;  the  mean  motion  of  the  moon,  of  its  nodes  and 
apogee  ;  the  equation  of  the  moon's  centre,  and  the  inclina 
tion  of  its  orbit  ;  he  likewise  detected  a  second  inequality, 
of  which  he  could   not,   for  want  of  proper  observations, 
discover  the  period   and  the    law.      His  commentary   on 
Aratus  shows  that  he  had  expounded,  and  given  a  geomet 
rical  demonstration  of,  the  methods  necessary  to  find  out 
the  right  and  oblique  ascensions  of  the  points  of  the  ecliptic 
and  of  the  stars,  the  east  point  and  the  culminating  point 
of  the   ecliptic,  and  the  angle  of  the   east,  which  is  now 
called  the  nonagesimal  degree.     He  could  calculate  eclipses 
of  the  rnoon,  and  use  them  for  the  correction  of  his  lunar 
tables,   and   he   had  an  approximate    knowledge   of  paral 
lax."  l     His  determination  of  the  motions  of  the  sun  and 
moon,    and    method   of  predicting   eclipses,    evince    great 
mathematical  genius.     But  he  combined,  with  this  deter 
mination,  a  theory  of  epicycles  and  eccentrics,  which  mod 
ern  astronomy  discards.     It  was,  however,  a  great  thing  to 
conceive  of  the  earth   as   a  solid    sphere,  and  reduce  the 
phenomena  of  the  heavenly  bodies  to  uniform  motions  in 
Greatness  of    circular  orbits.     "  That  Hipparchus  should  have 
s.    succee(je(i  jn  the  first  great  steps  of  the  resolu- 

l  Delambre,  Hist,  de  FAstr&n.  Anc.,  torn.  i.  p.  184. 


CHAP.  IX.]  Posidonius.  369 

tion  of  the  heavenly  bodies  into  circular  motions  is  a  cir 
cumstance/'  says  Whewell,  "  which  gives  him  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  places  in  the  roll  of  great  astronomers."  1 
But  he  even  did  more  than  this.  He  discovered  that  ap 
parent  motion  of  the  fixed  stars  round  the  axis  of  the  eclip 
tic,  which  is  called  the  Precession  of  the  Equinoxes,  one 
of  the  greatest  discoveries  in  astronomy.  He  maintained 
that  the  precession  was  not  greater  than  fifty-nine  seconds, 
and  not  less  than  thirty-six  seconds.  Hipparchus  framed  a 
catalogue  of  the  stars,  and  determined  their  places  with 
reference  to  the  ecliptic,  by  their  latitudes  and  longitudes. 
Altogether,  he  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  greatest 
geniuses  of  antiquity,  and  his  works  imply  a  prodigious 
amount  of  calculation. 

Astronomy  made  no  progress  for  three  hundred  years, 
although  it  was  expounded  by  improved  methods.   pog}donius 
Posidonius  constructed  an  orrery,  which  exhib 
ited  the  diurnal  motions  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  five  planets. 
Posidonius  calculated  the  circumference  of  the  earth  to  be 
two  hundred  and  forty  thousand  stadia  by  a  different  method 
from    Eratosthenes.     The    barrenness   of  discovery,  from 
Hipparchus  to  Ptolemy,  in  spite  of  the  patronage  of  the 
Ptolemies,  was  owing  to  the  want  of  instruments  for  the 
accurate  measure  of  time,  like  our  clocks,  to  the  imperfec 
tion  of  astronomical  tables,  and  to  the  want  of  telescopes. 
Hence  the  great  Greek  astronomers  were  unable  to  real 
ize  their  theories.     Their  theories  were  magnificent,  and 
evinced   great   power  of  mathematical    combination  ;  but 
what  could  they  do  without  that  wondrous  instrument  by 
which  the  human  eye  indefinitely  multiplies  its  power  ?  — 
by  which   objects    are  distinctly  seen,  which,  without  it, 
would  be  invisible  ?     Moreover,  the  ancients  had  no  accu 
rate  almanacs,  since  the  care  of  the  calendar  belonged  to 
the  priests  rather  than  to  the  astronomers,  who  tampered 
with  the  computation  of  time  for  temporary  and  personal 

1  Hist.  Ind.  Science,  vol.  i.  p.  181. 
24 


370     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  ix. 

objects.  The  calendars  of  different  communities  differed. 
Hence  Julius  Caasar  rendered  a  great  service  to  science  by 
the  reform  of  the  Roman  calendar,  which  was  exclusively 
The  Roman  under  the  control  of  tlie  college  of  pontiffs.  The 
calendar.  Roman  year  consisted  of  three  hundred  and  fifty- 
five  days,  and,  in  the  time  of  Caesar,  the  calendar  was  in 
great  confusion,  being  ninety  days  in  advance,  so  that  Jan 
uary  was  an  autumn  month.  He  inserted  the  regular  in 
tercalary  month  of  twenty-three  days,  and  two  additional 
ones  of  sixty-seven  days.  These,  together  of  ninety  days, 
were  added  to  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days,  making 
a  year  of  transition  of  four  hundred  and  forty-five  days,  by 
which  January  was  brought  back  to  the  first  month  in 
the  year  after  the  winter  solstice.  And  to  prevent  the 
repetition  of  the  error,  he  directed  that  in  future  the  year 
should  consist  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  and  one 
quarter  days,  which  he  effected  by  adding  one  day  to  the 
months  of  April,  June,  September,  and  November,  and 
two  days  to  the  months  of  January,  Sextilis,  and  Decem 
ber,  making  an  addition  of  ten  days  to  the  old  year  of  three 
hundred  and  fifty-five.  And  he  provided  for  a  uniform 
intercalation  of  one  day  in  every  fourth  year,  which 
accounted  for  the  remaining  quarter  of  a  day.1 

"  Ille  moras  solis,  quibus  in  sua  signa  rediret, 

Traditur  exactis  disposuisse  notis. 
Is  decies  senos  tercentum  et  quinqui  diebus 

Junxit;  et  pleno  tempora  quarta  die. 
Hie  anni  modus  est.    In  lustrum  accedere  debet 

Quae  consummatur  partibus,  una  dies."  2 

Caesar  was  a  student  of  astronomy,  and  always  found  time 
char's         &*  its  contemplation.     He  is  said  even  to  have 
written   a    treatise  on    the  motion  of  the  stars. 
He  was  assisted  in  his  reform  of  the  calendar  by  Sosigines, 
an  Alexandrian  astronomer.     He  took  it  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  priests,  and  made  it  a  matter  of  pure  civil  regula 
tion.     The  year  was  defined  by  the  sun,  and  not,  as  be 
fore,  by  the  moon. 
1  Suet.,  Caesar,  40;  Plut.,  Gesar,  59.  2  Ovid,  Fast.,  iii. 


CHAP,  ix.]  Ptolemaic  System.  371 

Thus  the  Romans  were  the  first  to  bring  the  scientific 
knowledge  of  the  Greeks  into  practical  use  ;  but  while 
they  measured  the  year  with  a  great  approximation  to 
accuracy,  they  still  used  sun-dials  and  water-clocks  to 
measure  diurnal  time.  And  even  these  were  not  con 
structed  as  they  should  have  been.  The  hours  on  the 
sun-dial  were  ail  made  equal,  instead  of  varying  with  the 
length  of  the  day,  so  that  the  hour  varied  with  the  length 
of  the  day.  The  illuminated  interval  was  divided  into 
twelve  equal  parts,  so  that,  if  the  sun  rose  at  five  A.  M. 
and  set  at  eight  P.  M.,  each  hour  was  equal  to  eighty 
minutes.  And  this  rude  method  of  measurement  of  diur 
nal  time  remained  in  use  till  the  sixth  century.  But 
clocks,  with  wheels  and  weights,  were  not  invented  till 
the  twelfth  century. 

The  earlier  Greek  astronomers  did  not  attempt  to  fix 
the  order  of  the  planets  ;  but  when  geometry  was  applied 
to  celestial  movements,  the  difference  between  the  three 
superior  planets  and  the  two  inferior  was  perceived,  and 
the  sun  was  placed  in  the  midst  between  them,  so  that  the 
seven  movable  heavenly  bodies  were  made  to  succeed  one 
another  in  the  following  order :  1.  Saturn  ;  2.  Jupiter ; 
3.  Mars  ;  4.  The  Sun  ;  5.  Venus  ;  6.  Mercury  ;  7.  The 
Moon.  Archimedes  adopted  this  order,  which  was  fol 
lowed  by  the  leading  philosophers.1 

The  last  great  light  among  the  ancients  in  astronomical 
science  was  Ptolemy,  who  lived  from  100  to  170  ptoiemyand 
A.  P.  in  Alexandria.  He  was  acquainted  with  hissystem- 
the  writings  of  all  the  previous  astronomers,  but  accepted 
Hipparchus  as  his  guide.  He  held  that  the  heaven  is 
spherical  and  revolves  upon  its  axis  ;  that  the  earth  is  a 
sphere,  and  is  situated  within  the  celestial  sphere,  and 
nearly  at  its  centre ;  that  it  is  a  mere  point  in  reference  to 
the  distance  and  magnitude  of  the  fixed  stars,  and  that  it 
has  no  motion.  He  adopted  the  views  of  the  ancient 

1  Lewis,  p.  247. 


ST2     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

astronomers,  who  placed  Saturn,  Jupiter,  and  Mars  next 
under  the  sphere  of  the  fixed  stars,  then  the  sun  above 
Venus  and  Mercury,  and  lastly  the  moon  next  to  the 
earth.  But  he  differed  from  Aristotle,  who  conceived  that 
the  earth  revolves  in  an  orbit  round  the  centre  of  the 
planetary  system,  and  turns  upon  its  axis  —  two  ideas  in 
common  with  the  doctrines  which  Copernicus  afterward 
unfolded.  But  even  he  did  not  conceive  the  heliocentric 
theory  that  the  sun  is  the  centre  of  the  universe.  Archi 
medes  and  Hipparchus  both  rejected  this  theory. 

In  regard  to  the  practical  value  of  the  speculations  of 
the  ancient  astronomers,  it  may  be  said  that,  had  they  pos 
sessed  clocks  and  telescopes,  their  scientific  methods  would 
have  sufficed  for  all  practical  purposes.  The  greatness  of 
modern  discoveries  lies  in  the  great  stretch  of  the  reasoning 
powers,  and  the  magnificent  field  they  afford  for  sublime 
contemplation.  "  But,"  as  Sir  G.  Cornwall  Lewis  remarks, 
u  modern  astronomy  is  a  science  of  pure  curiosity,  and  is 
directed  exclusively  to  the  extension  of  knowledge  in  a 
field  which  human  interests  can  never  enter.  The  peri 
odic  time  of  Uranus,  the  nature  of  Saturn's  ring,  and  the 
occultation  of  Jupiter's  satellites,  are  as  far  removed  from 
the  concerns  of  mankind  as  the  heliacal  rising  of  Sirius,  or 
the  northern  position  of  the  Great  Bear."  This  may  seem 
to  be  a  utilitarian  view  with  which  those  philosophers,  who 
have  cultivated  science  for  its  own  sake,  finding  in  the 
same  a  sufficient  reward,  as  in  truth  and  virtue,  can  have 
no  sympathy. 

The  upshot  of  the  scientific  attainments  of  the  ancients, 
Result  of  in  the  magnificent  realm  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
Testi^tVon's.  would  seem  to  be  that  they  laid  the  foundation  of 
all  the  definite  knowledge  which  is  useful  to  mankind  ; 
while  in  the  field  of  abstract  calculation  they  evinced 
reasoning  and  mathematical  powers  which  have  never  been 
surpassed.  Eratosthenes,  Archimedes,  and  Hipparchus 
were  geniuses  worthy  to  be  placed  by  the  side  of  Kepler, 


CHAP,  ix'.]          The  Ancient  Mathematicians.  373 

Newton,  and  La  Place.  And  all  ages  will  reverence  their 
efforts  and  their  memory.  It  is  truly  surprising  that,  with 
their  imperfect  instruments,  and  the  absence  of  definite 
data,  they  reached  a  height  so  sublime  and  grand.  They 
explained  the  doctrine  of  the  sphere  and  the  apparent 
motions  of  the  planets,  but  they  had  no  instruments  capable 
of  measuring  angular  distances.  The  ingenious  epicycles  of 
Ptolemy  prepared  the  way  for  the  elliptic  orbits  and  laws 
of  Kepler,  which,  in  turn,  conducted  Newton  to  the  dis 
covery  of  the  laws  of  gravitation  —  the  grandest  scientific 
discovery  in  the  annals  of  our  race. 

Closely  connected  with  astronomical  science  was  geom 
etry,   which    was   first    taught   in  Egypt,  —  the 

J '  ji          r  •  -IT!  Geometry. 

nurse  and  cradle  of  ancient  wisdom.  It  arose 
from  the  necessity  of  adjusting  the  landmarks,  disturbed 
by  the  inundations  of  the  Nile.  Thales  introduced  the 
science  to  the  Greeks.  He  applied  a  circle  to  the  meas 
urement  of  angles.  Anaximander  invented  the  sphere, 
the  gnomon,  and  geographical  charts,  which  required  con 
siderable  geometrical  knowledge.  Anaxagoras  employed 
himself  in  prison  in  attempting  to  square  the  circle.  Pythag 
oras  discovered  the  important  theorem  that  in  a  right- 
angled  triangle  the  squares  on  the  sides  containing  the 
right  angle  are  together  equal  to  the  square  on  the  oppo 
site  side  of  it.  He  also  discovered  that  of  all  figures  hav 
ing  the  same  boundary,  the  circle  among  plane  figures  and 
the  sphere  among  solids,  are  the  most  capacious.  The 
theory  of  the  regular  solids  was  taught  in  his  school,  and 
his  disciple,  Archytas,  was  the  author  of  a  solution  of  the 
problem  of  two  mean  proportionals.  Democritus  of  Ab- 
dera  treated  of  the  contact  of  circles  and  spheres,  and  of 
irrational  lines  and  solids.  Hippocrates  treated  Andent 

Pr**t*k 

of  the  duplication  of  the  cube,  and  wrote  elements  geometers, 
of  geometry,  and  knew  that  the  area  of  a  circle  was  equal 
to  a  triangle  whose  base  is  equal  to  its  circumference,  and 
altitude  equal  to  its  radius.     The  disciples  of  Plato  invented 


374     Scientific  Knawledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  ix. 

conic  sections,  and  discovered  the  geometrical  loci      They 
also  attempted  to  resolve  the  problems  of  the  trisection 
of  an  angle  and  the  duplication  of  a  cube.     To  Leon  is 
ascribed  that  part  of  the  solution  of  a  problem,  called  its 
determination,  which  treats  of  the  cases  in  which  the  prob 
lem  w  possible,  and  of  those  in  which  it  cannot  be  resolved 
Euclid  has  almost  given  his  name  to  the  science  of  geom- 
Euclid.         etr-v-     He  w<>s  born  B.  c.  323,  and  belonged  to 
the  Platonic  sect,  which  ever  attached  areat  im 
portance  to  mathematics.    His  "  Elements  "  are  still  in  use 
as  nearly  perfect  as  any  human  production  can  be      They 
consist  of  thirteen  books, -the  first  four  on  plane  geom 
etry;  the  fifth  is  on  the  theory  of  proportion,  and  applies 
tomagmtude  in  general;  the  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth 
are  on  arithmetic;  the  tenth  on  the  arithmetical  character- 
ist,csof  the  division  of  a  straight  line;  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  on  the  elements  of  solid  geometry;  the  thirteenth 
on  the  regular  solids.     These  "Elements"  soon  became 
the  universal  study  of  geometers  throughout  the  civilized 
world     They  were  translated  into  the  Arabic,  and  through 
the   Arabians    were   made   known    to   medieval   Europe. 
ihere  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  work  is  one  of  the  highest 
triumphs  of  human  genius,  and  has  been  valued  moi/than 
any  single  monument  of  antiquity.     It  is  still  a  text-book 
m  various  English  translations,  in  all  our  schools.     Euclid 
also  wrote  various  other  works,  showing  great  mathematical 
nt.     But,  perhaps,  a   greater  even   than    Euclid  was 
Arching.    Arcl»«ne<fes,  born  287  B.  c.,  who  wrote  on  the 
sphere  and  cylinder,  which  terminate  in  the  dis 
covery  that  the  solidity  and  surface  of  a  sphere  are  respect 
ively  two  thirds  of  the  solidity  and  surface  of  the  circum 
scribing  cylinder.     He  al.so  wrote  on  conoids  and  .sphe 
roids.         The  properties  of  the  spiral,  and  the  quadrature 
the  parabola  were  added  to  ancient  geometry  by  Archi 
medes,  the  last  being  a  great  step  in  the  progress  of  the 
.ence,  smce  it  was  the  first  curvilineal  space  legitimately 


CHAP,  ix.]  Eratosthenes.  375 

squared."  Modern  mathematicians  may  not  have  the 
patience  to  go  through  his  investigations,  since  the  con 
clusions  he  arrived  at  may  now  be  reached  by  shorter 
methods,  but  the  great  conclusions  of  the  old  geometers 
were  only  reached  by  prodigious  mathematical  power. 
Archimedes  is  popularly  better  known  as  the  inventor  of 
engines  of  war,  and  various  ingenious  machines,  than  as  a 
mathematician,  great  as  were  his  attainments.  His  theory 
of  the  lever  was  the  foundation  of  statics,  till  the  discovery 
of  the  composition  of  forces  in  the  time  of  Newton,  and  no 
essential  addition  was  made  to  the  principles  of  the  equili 
brium  of  fluids  and  floating  bodies  till  the  time  of  Stevin 
in  1608.  He  detected  the  mixture  of  silver  in  a  crown  of 
gold  which  his  patron,  Hiero  of  Syracuse,  ordered  to  be 
made,  and  he  invented  a  water-screw  for  pumping  water 
out  of  the  hold  of  a  great  ship  he  built.  He  used  also  a 
combination  of  pulleys,  and  he  constructed  an  orrery  to 
represent  the  movement  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  He  had 
an  extraordinary  inventive  genius  for  discovering  new 
provinces  of  inquiry,  and  new  points  of  view  for  old  and 
familiar  objects.  Like  Newton,  he  had  a  habit  of  abstrac 
tion  from  outward  things,  and  would  forget  to  take  his 
meals.  He  was  killed  by  Roman  soldiers  when  Syracuse 
was  taken,  and  the  Sicilians  so  soon  forgot  his  greatness 
that  in  the  time  of  Cicero  they  did  not  know  where  his 
tomb  was.1 

Eratosthenes  was  another  of  the  famous  geometers  of 
antiquity,  and  did  much  to  improve  geometrical 
analysis.  He  was  also  a  philosopher  and  geog- 
rapher.  He  gave  a  solution  of  the  problem  of  the  dupli 
cation  of  the  cube,  and  applied  his  geometrical  knowledge 
to  the  measurement  of  the  magnitude  of  the  earth  —  one 
of  the  first  who  brought  mathematical  methods  to  the  aid 
of  astronomy,  which,  in  our  day,  is  almost  exclusively  the 
province  of  the  mathematician. 

1  See  article  in  Smith's  Dictionary,  by  Prof.  Darkin,  of  Oxford. 


376     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  ix. 

Apollonius  of  Perga,  probably  about  forty  years  younger 
Apoiionius     than  Archimedes,  and  his  equal  in  mathematical 
genius,  was  the  most  fertile  and  profound  writer 
among  the  ancients   who   treated  of  geometry.     He  was 
called  the  Great  Geometer.     His  most  important  work  is 
a  treatise  on  conic  sections,  regarded  with  unbounded  ad- 
miration  by  contemporaries,  and,  in  some  respects,  unsur 
passed  by  any  thing  produced  by  modern   mathematicians. 
He,  however,  made  use  of  the  labors  of  his  predecessors, 
so  that  it  is  difficult  to  tell  how  far  he  is  original.     But  all 
men  of  science  must  necessarily  be  indebted  to  those  who 
have  preceded  them.     Even  Homer,  in  the  field  of  poetry, 
made  use  of  the  bards  who  had  sung  for  a  thousand  years 
before  him.     In  the  realms  of  philosophy  the  great  men  of 
all  ages  have   built  up  new  systems  on   the  foundations 
which  others  have  established.     If  Plato  or  Aristotle  had 
been  contemporaries  with  Thales,  would  they  have  matured 
so  wonderful  a   system  of  dialectics  ?  and  if  Thales   had 
been  contemporaneous  with  Plato,  he  might  have  added  to 
his  sublime  science  even  more  than  Aristotle.     So  of  the 
great  mathematicians  of  antiquity;  they  were  all  wonder 
ful  men,  and  worthy  to  be  classed  with  the  Newtons  and 
Keplers  of  our  times.     Considering  their  means,  and  the 
state  of  science,  they  made  as  great,  though  not  as  for 
tunate,    discoveries  —  discoveries    which    show    patience, 
genius,  and  power  of  calculation.     Apollonius  was  one  of 
these  — one    of    the    master   intellects    of   antiquity,  like 
Euclid  and  Archimedes  —  one  of  the  master  intellects  of 
all  ages,  like  Newton  himself.     I  might  mention  the  sub- 
jects  of  his  various  works,  but  they  would  not  be  under 
stood  except  by  those  familiar  with  mathematics.1 

Other  famous  geometers  could  also  be  mentioned,  but 
sucn  men  as  Euclid,  Archimedes,  and  Apollonius 
are  enough  to  show  that  geometry  was  cultivated 
to  a  great  extent  by  the  philosophers  of  antiquity. 

aih"'  Simson's  **>- 


CHAP,  ix.]  The  Empirical  Sciences.  377 

It  progressively  advanced,  like  philosophy  itself,  from  the 
time  of  Thales,  until  it  had  reached  the  perfection  of 
which  it  was  capable,  when  it  became  merged  into  astro 
nomical  science.  It  was  cultivated  more  particularly  by  the 
disciples  of  Plato,  who  placed  over  his  school  this  inscrip 
tion,  "  Let  no  one  ignorant  of  geometry  enter  here."  He 
believed  that  the  laws  by  which  the  universe  is  governed 
are  in  accordance  with  the  doctrines  of  mathematics.  The 
same  opinion  was  shared  by  Pythagoras,  the  great  founder 
of  the  science,  whose  great  formula  was,  that  number  is 
the  essence  or  first  principle  of  all  things.  No  thinkers 
ever  surpassed  the  Greeks  in  originality  and  profundity, 
and  mathematics,  being  highly  prized  by  them,  were  carried 
to  the  greatest  perfection  their  method  would  allow.  They 
did  not  understand  algebra,  by  the  application  of  which 
to  geometry  modern  mathematicians  have  climbed  to 
greater  heights  than  the  ancients.  But  then  it  is  all  the 
more  remarkable  that,  without  the  aid  of  algebraic  anal 
ysis,  they  were  able  to  solve  such  difficult  problems  as 
occupied  the  minds  of  Archimedes  and  Apollonius.  No 
positive  science  can  boast  of  such  rapid  development  as 
geometry  for  two  or  three  hundred  years  before  Christ, 
and  never  was  the  intellect  of  man  more  severely  tasked 
than  by  the  ancient  mathematicians. 

No  empirical  science  can  be  carried  to  perfection  by  any 
one  nation  or  in  any  particular  epoch.  It  can  only  Empirical 
expand  with  the  progressive  developments  of  the  sclences- 
human  race  itself.  Nevertheless,  in  that  science  which  for 
three  thousand  years  has  been  held  in  the  greatest  honor, 
and  which  is  one  of  the  three  great  liberal  professions  of 
our  modern  times,  the  ancients,  especially  the  Greeks, 
made  considerable  advance.  The  science  of  medicine, 
having  in  view  the  amelioration  of  human  misery,  and  the 
prolongation  of  life  itself,  was  very  early  cultivated.  It 
was,  indeed,  in  old  times,  another  word  for  physics,  —  the 
science  of  nature,  —  and  the  physician  was  the  observer 


378     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  ix. 

and  expounder  of  physics.  The  physician  was  supposed  to 
be  acquainted  with  the  secrets  of  nature  —  that  is,  the 
knowledge  of  drugs,  of  poisons,  of  antidotes  to  them,  and 
the  way  to  administer  them.  He  was  also  supposed  to 
know  the  process  of  preserving  the  body  after  death. 
Thus  Joseph  commanded  his  physician  to  embalm  the 
body  of  his  father  seventeen  hundred  years  before  the 
birth  of  Christ,  and  the  process  of  embalming  was 
probably  known  to  the  Egyptians  beyond  the  period 
when  history  begins.  Helen,  of  Trojan  fame,  put  into 
wine  a  drug  that  "frees  man  from  grief  and  anger  and 
causes  oblivion  of  all  ills."  1  Solomon  was  a  great  botan 
ist,  with  which  the  science  of  medicine  is  indissolubly  con 
nected.  The  "  Ayur  Veda,"  written  nine  hundred  years 
before  Hippocrates  was  born,  sums  up  the  knowledge  of 
previous  periods  relating  to  obstetric  surgery,  to  general 
pathology,  to  the  treatment  of  insanity,  to  infantile  dis 
eases,  to  toxicology,  to  personal  hygiene,  and  to  diseases 
of  the  generative  functions.2  The  origin  of  Hindu  medi 
cine  is  lost  in  remote  antiquity. 

Thus  Hippocrates,  the  father  of  European  medicine, 
Hippocrates  must  ^ave  Derived  his  knowledge,  not  merely 
from  his  own  observations,  but  from  the  writing's 
of  men  unknown  to  us,  and  systems  practiced  for  an  indefi 
nite  period.  The  real  founders  of  Greek  medicine  are 
fabled  characters,  like  Hercules  and  ^Esculapius  —  that  is, 
benefactors  whose  names  have  not  descended  to  us.  They 
are  mythical  personages,  like  Hermes  and  Chiron.  One 
thousand  two  hundred  years  before  Christ  temples  were 
erected  to  jEsculapius  in  Greece,  the  priests  of  which  were 
really  physicians,  and  the  temples  themselves  were  hospi 
tals.  In  them  were  practiced  rites  apparently  mysterious, 
but  which  modern  science  calls  by  the  names  of  mesmer 
ism,  hydropathy,  mineral  springs,  and  other  essential  ele 
ments  of  empirical  science.  And  these  temples  were  also 

*  Odyssey,  b.  iv.  2  Wise,  On  the  Hindu  System  of  Medicine,  p.  12. 


CHAP.  IX.]  Hippocrates.  3?9 

medical  schools.     That  of  Cos  gave  birth  to  Hippocrates, 
and    it    was    there    that    his    writings    were   commenced. 
Pythagoras  — for  those  old  Grecian  philosophers  were  the 
fathers" of  all  wisdom  and  knowledge,  in  mathematics  and 
empirical  sciences,  as  well  as    philosophy  itself  —  studied 
medicine  in  the  schools  of  Egypt,  Phoenicia,  Chaldea,  and 
India,  and  came  in  conflict  with  sacerdotal  power,  winch 
has  ever  been  antagonistic  to  new  ideas  in  science, 
traveled  from  town  to  town  as  a  teacher  or  lecturer,  estab 
lishing  communities  in  which  medicine  as  well  as  numbers 

was  taught. 

The  greatest  name  in  medical  science,  in  ancient  or  in 
modern  times,—  the  man  who  did  the  most  to  advance  it; 
the  greatest  medical  genius  of  whom  we  have  record,  — 
is  Hippocrates,  born  on  the  island  of  Cos  B.  c.  460,  of  the 
great  ^Esculapian  family,  and  was  instructed  by  his  father. 
We  know  scarcely  more  of  his  life  than  we  do  of  Homer 
himself,  although' he  lived   in   the  period  of  the  highest 
splendor  of  Athens.     And  his  writings,  like  those  of  Ho 
mer,  are  thought  by  some  to  be  the  work  of  different  men. 
They  were    translated   into  Arabic,   and   were   no  slight 
means  of  giving  an  impulse  to  the  Saracenic  schools  of  the 
Middle  Ages  in  that  science  in  which  the  Saracens  espe 
cially  excelled.     The    Hippocratic    collection    consists    of 
more  than  sixty  works,  which  were  held  in  the  highest  esti 
mation  by  the  ancient  physicians.     Hippocrates  introduced 
a  new  era  in  medicine,  which,  before  his  time,  had  been 
monopolized  by  the  priests.     He  carried  out  a  system  of 
severe  induction  from  the  observation  of  facts,  and  is  as 
truly  the  creator  of  the  inductive  method  as  Bacon  him 
self     He  abhorred  theories  which  could  not  be  established 
by  facts.     He  was  always  open  to   conviction,   and  can 
didly  confessed  his  mistakes.     He  was  conscientious  in  the 
practice  of  his  profession,  and  valued  the  success  of  his  art 
more  than  silver  and  gold.     The  Athenians  revered  him 
for  his  benevolence  as  well  as  genius.     The  great  principle 


380     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  IX. 

of  his  practice  was  trust  in  nature.  Hence  he  was  accused 
of  allowing  his  patients  to  die  ;  but  this  principle  has  many 
advocates  among  scientific  men  in  our  day,  and  some  sup 
pose  the  whole  philosophy  of  homeopathy  rests  on  the 
primal  principle  which  Hippocrates  advanced.  He  had 
great  skill  in  diagnosis,  by  which  medical  genius  is  most 
severely  tested.  His  practice  was  cautious  and  timid  in 
contrast  with  that  of  his  contemporaries.  He  is  the  author 
of  the  celebrated  maxim,  "  Life  is  short  and  art  is  long." 
He  divides  the  causes  of  disease  into  two  principal  classes, 
—  the  one  comprehending  the  influence  of  seasons,  cli 
mates,  and  other  external  forces  ;  the  other  from  the  effects 
of  food  and  exercise.  To  the  influence  of  climate  he  at 
tributes  the  conformation  of  the  body  and  the  disposition 
of  the  mind.  He  also  attributes  all  sorts  of  disorders  to  a 
vicious  system  of  diet.  For  more  than  twenty  centuries 
his  pathology  was  the  foundation  of  all  the  medical  sects. 
He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  medicinal  properties  of 
drugs,  and  was  the  first  to  assign  three  periods  to  the 
course  of  a  malady.  He  knew,  of  course,  but  little  of 
surgery,  although  he  was  in  the  habit  of  bleeding,  and 
often  employed  his  knife.  He  was  also  acquainted  with 
cupping,  and  used  violent  purgatives.  He  was  not  aware 
of  the  importance  of  the  pulse,  and  confounded  the  veins 
with  the  arteries.  He  wrote  in  the  Ionic  dialect,  and  some 
of  his  works  have  gone  through  three  hundred  editions, 
so  highly  have  they  been  valued.  His  authority  passed 
away,  like  that  of  Aristotle,  on  the  revival  of  European 
science.  Yet  who  have  been  greater  ornaments  and  lights 
than  these  distinguished  Greeks  ? 

The  school  of  Alexandria  produced  eminent  physicians, 
as   well    as    mathematicians,   after   the    glory   of 
Greece  had  departed.    So  highly  was  it  esteemed 
that  Galen  went  there  to  study  five  hundred  years  after  its 
foundation.     It  was  distinguished  for  inquiries  into  scien 
tific  anatomy  and  physiology,  for  which  Aristotle  had  pre- 


CHAP,  ix.]  Galen.  381 

pared  the  way.  He  was  the  Humboldt  of  his  day,  and 
gave  great  attention  to  physics.  In  eight  books  he  de 
veloped  the  general  principles  of  natural  science  known  to 
the  Greeks.  On  the  basis  of  the  Aristotelian  researches, 
the  Alexandrian  physicians  carried  out  extensive  inquiries 
in  physiology.  Herophilus  discovered  the  fundamental 
principles  of  neurology,  and  advanced  the  anatomy  of  the 
brain  and  spinal  cord. 

Although  the  Romans  had  but  little  sympathy  for  sci 
ence  or  philosophy,  being  essentially  political  and  warlike 
in  their  turn  of  mind,  yet  when  they  had  conquered  the 
world,  and  had  turned  their  attention  to  arts,  medicine  re 
ceived  great  attention.  The  first  physicians  were  Greek 
slaves.  Of  these  was  Asclepiades,  who  enjoyed  the  friend 
ship  of  Cicero.  It  is  from  him  that  the  popular  medical 
theories  as  to  the  "  pores  "  have  descended.  He  was  the 
inventor  of  the  shower-bath.  Celsus  wrote  a  work  on 
medicine  which  takes  almost  equal  rank  with  the  Hippo- 
cratic  writings.  Medical  science  at  Rome  culminated  in 
Galen,  as  it  did  at  Athens  in  Hippocrates.  He  Medical 
was  patronized  by  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  availed  an.mfgthe 
himself  of  all  the  knowledge  of  preceding  natu-  Romans' 
ralists  and  physicians.  He  was  born  at  Pergamus  about 
the  year  A.  r>.  165,  where  he  learned,  under  able  masters, 
anatomy,  pathology,  and  therapeutics.  He  finished  his 
studies  at- Alexandria,  and  came  to  Rome  at  the  invitation 
of  the  emperor.  Like  his  patron,  he  was  one  of  the  bright 
est  ornaments  of  the  heathen  world,  and  one  of  the  most 
learned  and  accomplished  men  of  any  age.  "  Medicorum 
dissertissimus  atque  doctissimus."  l  He  left  five  hundred 
treatises,  most  of  them  relating  to  some  branch  of  medical 
science,  which  give  him  the  merit  of  being  one  of  the 
most  voluminous  of  authors.  His  celebrity  is  founded 
chiefly  on  his  anatomical  and  physiological  works.  He 
was  familiar  with  practical  anatomy,  deriving  his  kriowl- 

1  St.  Jerome,  Comment,  in  Aoms,  c.  5,  vol.  vi. 


382     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP,  ix." 

edge  from  dissection.     His  observations  about  health  are 
practical  and  useful.     He  lays  great  stress  on  gymnastic 
exercises,  and  recommends  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  the 
cold  bath  in  hot  weather,  hot  baths  to  old  people,  the  use 
of  wine,  three  meals  a  day,  and  pork  as  the  best  of  animal 
food.     The  great  principles  of  his  practice  were  that  dis 
ease  is   to  be  overcome  by  that  which  is  contrary  to  the 
disease  itself,  and  that  nature  is  to  be  preserved  by  that 
which    has   relation  with    nature.     As  disease  cannot  be 
overcome  so  long  as  its  cause  exists,  that,  if  possible,  was 
first  to  be  removed,  and  the  strength  of  the  patient  is  to  be 
considered  before  the  treatment  is  proceeded  with.     His 
"  Commentaries  on  Hippocrates"  served  as  a  treasure  of 
medical  criticism,  from  which  succeeding  annotators  bor 
rowed.     No  one  ever  set  before  the  medical  profession  a 
higher  standard  than  Galen,  and  few  have  more  nearly  ap 
proached  it.     He  did  not  attach  himself  to  any  particular 
school,  but  studied  the  doctrines  of  each  —  an  eclectic  in 
the  fullest   sensed     The  works  of  Galen  constituted  the 
last  production  of  ancient  Roman  medicine,  and  from  his 
day  the  decline  in  medical  science  was  rapid,  until  it  was 
revived  among  the  Arabs. 

The  physical  sciences,  it  must  be  confessed,  were  not 
carried  by  the  ancients  to  any  such  length  as  geometry  and 
astronomy.  In  physical  geography  they  were  particularly 
deficient.  Yet  even  this  branch  of  knowledge  can  boast 
of  some  eminent  names.  When  men  sailed  timidly  on  the 
coasts,  and  dared  not  explore  distant  seas,  the  true  position 
of  countries  could  not  be  ascertained  with  the  definiteness 
that  it  is  at  present.  But  geography  was  not  utterly  neg 
lected,  nor  was  natural  history. 

Herodotus  gives  us  most  valuable  information  respecting 
geSSv      ^   manners  and  customs  of  oriental  and   bar 
barous  nations,  and  Pliny  has  written  a  natural 


Medicine;  H««  Shoengel,  Geschichte  der 
'  haS  a  V^  learned  -tide  in 


CHAP,  ix.]  Strabo. 

history,  in    thirty-seven   books,  which   is  compiled   from 
upwards  of  two  "thousand  volumes,  and  refers  to  twenty 
thousand  matters  of  importance.     He  was  born  A.  D.  Zd, 
and  was  fifty-three  when  the  eruption  of  Vesuvius  took 
place  which  caused  his  death.     Pliny  cannot  be  called  a 
scientific  genius,  in  the  sense  understood  by  modern  sa 
vants  ;  nor  was  he  an  original  observer.     His  materials  are 
drawn  up  second  hand,  like  a  modern  encyclopedia.     Nor 
did  he  evince  great  judgment  in  his  selection, 
crreat  love  of  the   marvelous,  and  is  often  unintelligible. 
But  his  work  is  a  wonderful  monument  of  human  indus 
try      It  treats  of  every  thing  in  the  natural  world  —  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  of  the  elements,  of  thunder  and  lightning, 
of  the  winds  and  seasons,  of  the  changes  and  phenomena 
of  the  earth,  of  countries  and  nations,  seas  and  rivers,  ol 
men,  animals,  birds,  fishes,  and   plants,   of  minerals  and 
medicines  and  precious  stones,  of  commerce  and  the  fine 
arts      He  is  full  of  errors ;   but  his  work  is  among  the 
most    valuable    productions   of    antiquity.      Bufton    pro 
nounced  his  natural  history  to  contain  an  infinity  of  knowl- 
edo-e  in  every  department  of  human  occupation,  conveyed 
in"a  dress  ornate  and  brilliant.     It  is  a  literary  rather  than 
a  scientific    monument,  and  as  such  it  is  wonderful  - 
compilation  from  one  hundred  and  sixty  volumes  of  notes. 
In  strict  scientific  value,  it  is  inferior  to  the  works  of  modern 
research;  but  there  are  few  minds,  even  in  these  times, 
who  have  directed  inquiries  to  such  a  variety  of  subjects. 

Geographical  knowledge  was  advanced  by  Strabo,  who 
lived  in  the  Augustan  era  ;  but  researches  were     ^ 
chiefly  confined  to  the   Roman  empire.     Strabo 
was,  like  Herodotus,  a  great  traveler,  and   much  ot   his 
geographical  information  is  the  result  of  his  own  observa 
tions.     It  is  probable  he  is  much  indebted  to  Eratosthenes, 
who  preceded  him  by  three  centuries,  and  who  was  the 
first  systematic  writer  on  geography.     The  authorities  of 
Strabo  are  chiefly  Greek,  but  his  work  is  defective,  from 


384     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  ix. 

the  imperfect  notions  which  the  ancients  had  of  astronomy ; 
so  that  the  determination  of  the  earth's  figure  by  the 
measure  of  latitude  and  longitude,  the  essential  founda 
tions  of  geographical  description,  was  unknown.  The  enor 
mous  strides,  which  all  forms  of  physical  science  have 
made  since  the  discovery  of  America,  throw  all  ancient 
descriptions  and  investigations  into  the  shade,  and  Strabo 
appears  at  as  great  disadvantage  as  Pliny  or  Ptolemy ;  yet 
the  work  of  Strabo,  considering  his  means,  and  the  imper 
fect  knowledge  of  the  earth's  surface,  and  astronomical 
science,  was  really  a  great  achievement  of  industry.  He 
treats  of  the  form  and  magnitude  of  the  earth,  and  devotes 
eight  books  to  Europe,  six  to  Asia,  and  one  to  Africa.  His 
great  authorities  are  Eratosthenes,  Polybius,  Aristotle, 
Antiochus  of  Syracuse,  Posidonius,  Theopompus,  Arte- 
midorus  Ephorus,  Herodotus,  Anaximenes,  Thucydides,  and 
Aristo,  chiefly  historians  and  philosophers.  Whatever  may 
be  said  of  the  accuracy  of  the  great  geographer  of  antiq 
uity,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  was  a  man  of  immense 
research  and  learning.  His  work  in  seventeen  books  is 
one  of  the  most  valuable  which  have  come  down  from 
antiquity,  both  from  the  discussions  which  run  through  it, 
and  the  curious  facts  which  can  be  found  nowhere  else.  It 
is  scarcely  fair  to  estimate  the  genius  of  Strabo  by  the  cor 
rectness  and  extent  of  his  geographical  knowledge.  All 
men  are  lost  in  science,  and  science  is  progressive.  The 
great  scientific  lights  of  our  day  may  be  insignificant,  com 
pared  with  those  who  are  to  arise,  if  profundity  and  accu 
racy  of  knowledge  is  the  test.  It  is  the  genius  of  the 
ancients,  their  grasp  and  power  of  mind,  their  original 
labors  which  we  are  to  consider.  Anaxagoras  was  one  of 
the  greatest  philosophical  geniuses  of  all  ages ;  but,  as 
philosophy  is  a  science,  and  is  progressive,  his  knowledge 
could  not  be  compared  with  that  of  Aristotle.  Again,  who 
doubts  the  original  genius  and  grasp  of  Aristotle,  but  what 
was  he,  in  accuracy  of  knowledge  and  true  method,  in 


CHAP,  ix.]  Labors  of  Ptolemy.  385 

comparison  with  the  savants  of  the  nineteenth  century  ; 
yet,  it  would  be  difficult  to  show  that  Aristotle  was  infe 
rior  to  Bacon  or  Cuvier,  or  Stuart  Mill.  If,  however,  we 
would  compare  the  geographical  knowledge  of  the  ancients 
with  that  of  the  moderns,  we  confess  to  the  immeasurable 
inferiority  of  the  ancients  in  this  branch.  When  Eratos 
thenes  began  his  labors,  it  was  known  that  the  surface  of 
the  earth  was  spherical.  He  established  parallels  of  lati 
tude  and  longitude,  and  attempted  the  difficult  undertak 
ing  of  measuring  the  circumference  of  the  globe  by  the 
actual  measurement  of  a  segment  of  one  of  its  great  cir 
cles.  Posidonius  determined  the  arc  of  a  meridian  between 
Rhodes  and  Alexandria  to  be  a  forty-eighth  part  of  the 
whole  circumference — an  enormous  calculation,  yet  a  re 
markable  one  in  the  infancy  of  astronomical  science.  Hip- 
parchus  introduced  into  geography  a  great  improvement, 
namely,  the  relative  situation  of  places,  by  the  same  proc 
ess  that  he  determined  the  positions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies.  He  also  pointed  out  how  longitude  might  be  de 
termined  by  observing  the  eclipses  of  the  sun  and  moon. 
This  led  to  the  construction  of  maps  ;  but  none  fjonstruc- 
have  reached  us  except  those  which  were  used  to  maps, 
illustrate  the  geography  of  Ptolemy.  Hipparchus  was 
born  B.  c.  276,  the  first  who  raised  geography  to  the  rank 
of  a  science.  He  starved  himself  to  death,  being  tired  of 
life,  like  Eratosthenes,  more  properly  an  astronomer,  and 
the  most  distinguished  among  the  ancients,  born  about  160 
B.  c.,  although  none  of  his  writings  have  reached  us.  The 
improvements  he  pointed  out  were  applied  by  Ptolemy 
himself,  an  astronomer  who  flourished  about  the 

Ptolemy. 

year  160  at  Alexandria.  His  work  was  a  pres 
entation  of  geographical  knowledge  known  in  his  day,  so 
far  as  geography  is  the  science  of  determining  the  position 
of  places  on  the  earth's  surface.  The  description  of  places 
belongs  to  Strabo.  His  work  was  accepted  as  the  text 
book  of  the  science  till  the  fifteenth  century,  for  in  his  day 

25 


386     Scientific  Knowledge  among  the  Romans.     [CHAP.  ix. 

the  Roman  empire  had  been  well  surveyed.  He  main 
tained  that  the  earth  is  spherical,  and  introduced  the  terms 
longitude  and  latitude,  which  Eratosthenes  had  established, 
and  computed  the  earth  to  be  one  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  stadia  in  circumference,  and  a  degree  five  hun 
dred  stadia  in  length,  or  sixty-two  and  a  half  Roman  miles. 
His  estimates  of  the  length  of  a  degree  of  latitude  were 
nearly  correct ;  but  he  made  great  errors  in  the  degrees  of 
longitude,  making  the  length  of  the  world  from  east  to 
west  too  great,  which  led  to  the  belief  in  the  practicability 
of  a  western  passage  to  India.  He  also  assigned  too  great 
length  to  the  Mediterranean,  arising  from  the  difficulty  of 
finding  the  longitude  with  accuracy.  But  it  was  impos 
sible,  with  the  scientific  knowledge  of  his  day,  to  avoid 
errors,  and  we  are  surprised  that  he  made  so  few. 

REFERENCES.  —  An  exceedingly  learned  work  has  recently  been 
issued  in  London,  by  Parker  and  Son,  on  the  Astronomy  of  the  An 
cients,  by  Sir  George  Cornwall  Lewis,  though  rather  ostentatious  in 
his  parade  of  authorities,  and  minute  on  points  which  are  not  of  much 
consequence.  Delambre's  History  of  Ancient  Astronomy  has  long 
been  a  classic,  but  richer  in  materials  for  a  history  than  a  history  it 
self.  There  is  a  valuable  essay  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  which 
refers  to  a  list  of  authors,  among  which  are  Riccoli,  Weilder,  Bailly, 
Playfair,  La  Lande.  Lewis  makes  much  reference  to  Macrobius,  Vitru- 
vius,  Diogenes  Laertius,  Plutarch,  and  Suidas,  among  the  ancients,  and 
to  Ideler,  Unters.  iiber  die  Art  Beob.  der  Alten. 

Whewell's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences  may  also  be  consulted 
with  profit.  Leclerc,  Hist,  de  Med. ;  Spengel,  Gesch.  der  Arzney- 
kunde.  Strabo's  Geography  is  the  most  valuable  of  Antiquity.  See 
also  Poly  bi  us. 


CHAPTER    X. 

INTERNAL    CONDITION    OF    THE    ROMAN    EMPIRE. 

WE  have  now  surveyed  all  that  was  glorious  in  the 
most  splendid  empire  of  antiquity.  We  have  seen  a  civili 
zation  which,  in  many  respects,  rivals  all  that  modern 
nations  have  to  show.  In  art,  in  literature,  in  philosophy, 
in  laws,  in  the  mechanism  of  government,  in  the  cultivated 
face  of  nature,  in  military  strength,  in  aesthetic  culture,  the 
Romans  were  our  equals.  And  this  high  civilization  was 
reached  by  the  native  and  unaided  strength  of  man  ;  by 
the  power  of  will,  by  courage,  by  perseverance,  by  genius, 
by  fortunate  circumstances ;  by  great  men,  gifted  with  un 
usual  talents.  We  are  filled  with  admiration  by  all  these 
trophies  of  genius,  and  cannot  but  feel  that  only  a  superior 
race  could  have  accomplished  such  mighty  triumphs. 

But  all  this  splendid  external  was  deceptive.  It  was 
hollow  at  heart.  And  the  deeper  we  penetrate  the  social 
condition  of  the  people,  their  real  and  practical  life,  the 
more  we  feel  disgust  and  pity  supplanting  all  feelings  of 
admiration  and  wonder.  The  Roman  empire,  in  its  shame 
and  degradation,  suggests  melancholy  feelings  in  reference 
to  the  destiny  of  man,  so  far  as  his  happiness  and  welfare 
depend  upon  his  own  unaided  strength.  And  we  see  pro 
foundly  the  necessity  of  some  foreign  aid  to  rescue  him 
from  his  miseries. 

It  is  a  sad  picture  of  oppression,  of  injustice,  of  poverty, 
of  vice,  and  of  wretchedness,  which  I  have  now  to  present. 
Glorv  is  succeeded  by  shame,  and  strength  by  weakness, 
and  virtue  by  vice.  The  condition  of  the  great  mass  is 


388    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  X. 

deplorable,  and  even  the  great  and  fortunate  shine  in  a 
false  and  fictitious  light.  We  see  laws,  theoretically  good, 
practically  perverted  ;  monstrous  inequalities  of  condition, 
selfishness,  and  egotism  the  mainsprings  of  life.  We  see 
energies  misdirected,  and  art  corrupted.  All  noble  aspi 
rations  have  fled,  and  the  good  and  the  wise  retire  from 
active  life  in  despair  and  misanthropy.  Poets  flatter  the 
tyrants  who  trample  on  human  rights,  and  sensuality  and 
Epicurean  pleasures  absorb  the  depraved  thoughts  of  a 
perverse  generation. 

The  first  thing  which  arrests  our  attention  as  we  survey 
Theimpe-      the  grand  empire  which  embraced  the  civilized 

rial  despot-  °   .  *  .  •'••'.  i 

ism.  countries  or  the  world,  is  the  imperial  despotism. 

It  may  have  been  a  necessity,  an  inevitable  sequence  to 
the  anarchy  of  civil  war,  the  strife  of  parties,  great  military 
successes,  and  the  corruptions  of  society  itself.  It  may  be 
viewed  as  a  providential  event  in  order  that  general  peace 
and  security  might  usher  in  the  triumphs  of  a  new  religion. 
It  followed  naturally  the  subversion  of  the  constitution  by 
military  leaders,  the  breaking  up  of  the  power  of  the  Sen 
ate,  the  encroachments  of  democracy  and  its  leaders,  the 
wars  of  Sulla  and  Marius,  of  Pompey  and  Julius.  It  suc 
ceeded  massacres  and  factions  and  demagogues.  It  came 
when  conspiracies  and  proscriptions  and  general  insecurity 
rendered  a  stronger  government  desirable.  The  empire 
was  too  vast  to  be  intrusted  to  the  guidance  of  conflicting 
parties.  There  was  needed  a  strong,  central,  irrepressible, 
irresistible  power  in  the  hands  of  a  single  man.  Safety 
and  peace  seemed  preferable  to  glory  and  genius.  So  the 
people  acquiesced  in  the  changes  which  were  made  ;  they 
had  long  anticipated  them  ;  they  even  hailed  them  with 
silent  joy.  Patriots,  like  Brutus,  Cassius,  and  Cato,  gave 
themselves  up  to  despair;  but  most  men  were  pleased  with 
the  revolution  that  seated  Augustus  on  the  throne  of  the 
world.  For  twenty  years  the  empire  had  been  desolated 
by  destructive  and  exhaustive  wars.  The  cry  of  the  whole 


CHAP,  x.]  The  Imperial  Regime.  389 

empire  was  for  peace,  and  peace  could  be  secured  only  by 
the  ascendency  of  a  single  man,  ruling  with  absolute  and 
unresisted  sway. 

Historians  generally  have  regarded  the  revolution,  which 
changed  the  republic  to  a  monarchy,  as  salutary  Necessityof 
in  its  influences  for  several  generations.  The  revolution- 
empire  was  never  so  splendid  as  under  the  Caesars.  The 
energies  of  the  people  were  directed  into  peaceful  and  in 
dustrial  channels.  A  new  public  policy  was  inaugurated 
by  Augustus  —  to  preserve  rather  than  extend  the  limits 
of  the  empire.  The  world  enjoyed  peace,  and  the  rich 
consoled  themselves  with  riches.  Society  was  established 
upon  a  new  basis,  and  was  no  longer  rent  by  factions  and 
parties.  Demagogues  no  longer  disturbed  the  public 
peace,  nor  were  the  provinces  ransacked  and  devastated  to 
provide  for  the  means  of  carrying  on  war.  So  long  as  men 
did  not  oppose  the  government  they  were  safe  from  moles 
tation,  and  were  left  to  pursue  their  business  and  pleasure 
in  their  own  way.  Wealth  rapidly  increased,  and  all 
mechanical  arts,  and  all  elegant  pleasures.  Temples  be 
came  more  magnificent,  and  the  city  was  changed  from  brck 
to  marble.  Palaces  arose  upon  the  hills,  and  shops  were 
erected  in  the  valleys.  There  were  fewer  riots  and  mobs 
and  public  disturbances.  Public  amusements  were  system 
atized  and  enlarged,  and  the  people  indulged  with  sports, 
spectacles,  and  luxuries.  Rome  became  a  still  greater 
centre  of  wealth  and  art  as  well  as  of  political  power.  The 
city  increased  in  population  and  beautiful  structures.  The 
emperors  were  great  patrons  of  every  thing  calculated  to 
dazzle  the  eyes  of  their  subjects,  whether  amusements,  or 
palaces,  or  baths,  or  aqueducts,  or  triumphal  monuments. 
Artists  and  scholars  flocked  to  the  great  emporium,  as  well 
as  merchants  and  foreign  princes.  Nor  was  im-  Imperial 
perial  cruelty  often  visited  on  the  humble  classes.  rule' 
It  was  the  policy  of  the  emperors  to  amuse  and  flatter  the 
people,  while  they  deprived  them  of  political  rights.  But 


390    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

social  life  was  free.  All  were  at  liberty  to  seek  their 
pleasures  and  gains.  All  were  proud  of  their  metropolis, 
with  its  gilded  glories  and  its  fascinating  pleasures.  The 
city  was  probably  supplied  with  better  water,  and  could 
rely  with  more  certainty  on  the  necessaries  of  life,  than 
under  the  old  regime.  The  people  had  better  baths,  and 
larger  houses,  and  cheaper  corn.  The  government,  for  a 
time,  was  splendidly  administered,  even  by  tyrants.  Out 
rages,  extortions,  and  disturbances  were  punished.  Order 
reigned,  and  tranquillity,  and  outward  and  technical  jus 
tice.  All  classes  felt  secure.  They  could  sleep  without 
fear  of  robbery  or  assassination.  And  all  trades  flourished. 
Art  was  patronized  magnificently,  and  every  opportunity 
was  offered  for  making  and  for  spending  fortunes.  In 
short,  all  the  arguments  which  can  be  adduced  in  favor  of 
despotism  in  contrast  with  civil  war  and  violence,  and  the 
strife  of  factions  and  general  insecurity  of  life  and  property, 
can  be  urged  to  show  that  the  change,  if  inevitable,  was 
beneficial  in  its  immediate  effects. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  a  most  lamentable  change  from  that 
Despotism  of  condition  of  things  which  existed  before  the  civil 
orlem  wars.  Roman  liberties  were  prostrated  forever. 
Tyrants,  armed  with  absolute  and  irresponsible  power, 
ruled  over  the  empire  ;  nor  could  their  tyranny  end  but  with 
their  lives.  Noble  sentiments  and  aspirations  were  re 
buked.  The  times  were  unfavorable  to  the  development 
of  genius,  except  in  those  ways  which  subserved  the  inter 
ests  of  the  government.  Under  the  emperors  we  read  of 
no  more  great  orators  like  Cicero,  battling  for  human  rights, 
and  defending  the  public  weal.  Eloquence  was  suppressed. 
Nor  was  there  liberty  of  speech  in  the  Senate.  The  usual 
jealousy  of  tyrants  was  awakened  to  every  emancipating 
influence  on  the  people.  They  were  now  amused  with 
shows  and  spectacles,  but  could  not  make  their  voices  heard 
regarding  public  injuries.  The  people  were  absolutely  in 
the  hands  of  iron  masters.  So  was  the  Senate.  So  were 


CHAP,  x.]  Imperial  Despotism.  391 

all  orders  and  conditions  of  men.  One  man  reigned  su 
preme.  His  will  was  law.  Resistance  to  it  was  vain.  It 
was  treason  to  find  fault  with  any  public  acts.  From  the 
Pillars  of  Hercules  to  the  Caspian  Sea  one  stern  will  ruled 
all  classes  and  orders.  No  one  could  fly  from  the  agents 
and  ministers  of  the  empire.  He  was  the  vicegerent  of  the 
Almighty,  worshiped  as  a  deity,  undisputed  master  of  the 
lives  and  liberties  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  millions  of 
people.  There  was  no  restraint  on  his  inclinations.  He 
could  do  whatever  he  pleased,  without  rebuke  and  without 
fear.  No  general  or  senator  or  governor  could  screen  him 
self  from  his  vengeance.  He  controlled  the  army,  the 
Senate,  the  judiciary,  the  internal  administration  of  the 
empire,  and  the  religious  worship  of  the  people.  All  offices 
and  honors  and  emoluments  emanated  from  him.  All 
opposition  ceased,  and  all  conspired  to  elevate  still  higher 
that  supreme  arbiter  of  fortune  whom  no  one  could  hope 
successfully  to  rival.  Revolt  was  madness,  and  treason  ab 
surdity.  And  so  perfect  was  the  mechanism  of  the  gov 
ernment  that  the  emperor  had  time  for  his  private  pleasures. 
It  was  never  administered  with  greater  rigor  than  when 
Tiberius  secluded  himself  in  his  guarded  villa.  And  a 
timid,  or  weak,  or  irresolute  emperor  was  as  much  to  be 
feared  as  a  monster,  since  he  was  surrounded  with  minions 
who  might  be  unscrupulous.  Nor  was  the  imperial  power 
exercised  to  check  the  gigantic  social  evils  of  the  Tyranny  of 

theemper- 

empire,  —  those  which  were  gradually  but  surely  ors. 
undermining  the  virtues  on  which  strength  is  based. 
They  did  not  seek  to  prevent  irreligion,  luxury,  slavery, 
and  usury,  the  encroachments  of  the  rich  upon  the  poor, 
the  tyranny  of  foolish  fashions,  demoralizing  sports  and 
pleasures,  money-making,  and  all  the  follies  which  lax 
principles  of  morality  allowed.  They  fed  the  rabble  with 
corn  and  oil  and  wine,  and  thus  encouraged  idleness,  and 
dissipation.  The  world  never  saw  a  more  rapid  retrograde 
in  human  rights,  or  a  greater  prostration  of  liberties.  Taxes 


392    Internal   Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  X. 

were  imposed  according  to  the  pleasure  or  necessities  of 
the  government.  Provincial  governors  became  still  more 
rapacious  and  cruel.  Judges  hesitated  to  decide  against 
the  government.  A  vile  example  was  presented  to  the 
people  in  their  rulers.  The  emperors  squandered  immense 
sums  on  their  private  pleasures,  and  set  public  opinion  at 
defiance.  Patriotism,  in  its  most  enlarged  sense,  became 
an  impossibility.  All  lofty  spirits  were  crushed.  Corrup 
tion,  in  all  forms  of  administration,  fearfully  increased,  for 
there  was  no  safeguard.  Women  became  debased  from 
the  pernicious  influences  of  a  corrupt  and  unblushing  court. 
Adultery,  divorce,  and  infanticide  became  still  more  com 
mon.  The  emperors  thought  more  of  securing  their  own 
power  and  indulging  their  own  passions  than  of  the  public 
good.  The  humiliating  conviction  was  fastened  upon  all 
classes  that  liberty  was  extinguished,  and  that  they  were 
slaves  to  an  irresponsible  power.  There  are  those  who  are 
found  to  applaud  a  despotism  ;  but  despotism  presupposes 
the  absence  of  the  power  of  self-government,  and  the 
necessity  of  severe  and  rigorous  measures.  It  presupposes 
the  tendency  to  crime  and  violence,  that  men  are  brutes 
and  must  be  coerced  like  wild  beasts.  We  are  warranted 
in  assuming  a  very  low  condition  of  society  when  despot 
ism  became  a  necessity.  Theoretically,  absolutism  may 
be  the  best  government,  if  rulers  are  wise  and  just ;  but, 
practically,  as  men  are,  despotisms  are  cruel  and  revenge 
ful.  There  are  great  and  glorious  exceptions  ;  but  it  can 
not  be  denied  that  society  is  mournful  when  tyrants  bear 
rule.  And  it  is  seldom  that  society  improves  under  them, 
without  very  powerful  religious  influences.  It  generally 
grows  worse  and  worse.  Despotism  implies  slavery,  and 
slavery  is  the  worst  condition  of  mankind, — doubtless  a 
wholesome  discipline,  under  certain  circumstances,  yet  still 
a  great  calamity. 

The  Roman  world  was  fortunate  in   having  such  a  man 
as  Augustus  for  supreme  ruler,  after  all  liberties  were  sub- 


CHAP,  x.]  Augustus. 

verted.     He  was  one  of  the  wisest  and  greatest  of  the  em 
perors.     He  inaugurated  the  policy  of  ^  his  sue-   Augustu8 
cessors,  from  which  the  immediate  ones  did  not  far 
depart.     He  was  careful,  in  the  first  place,  to  disguise  his 
powers,  and  offend  the  moral  sentiments  of  the  people  as 
little  as  possible.     He  met  with  but  little  opposition  in  his 
usurpation,  for  the  most   independent  of  the  nobles  had 
perished  in  the  wars,  and  the  rest  consulted  their  interests. 
He  selected  the  ablest  and  most  popular  men  in  the  city  to 
be  his    favorite    ministers  —  Maecenas  and  Agrippa.     His 
policy  was  peace.     He  declined  the  coronary  gold  proffered 
by  the  Italian  states.     He  was  profuse  in  his  generosity, 
without  additional  burdens  on  the  state,  for,  as  the  heir  of 
Csesar,  he  came  into  possession  of  eight  hundred  and  fifty 
millions  of  dollars,  the  amount   which    the   Dictator  had 
amassed  from  the  spoils  of  war.     He  was  but  thirty-three 
years  of  age,  in  the  prime  of  his  strength  and  courage. 
He  purged*the  Senate  of  unworthy  members,  and  restored 
the  appearance  of  its  ancient  dignity.     He  took  a  census 
of  the  Roman  people.     He  increased  the  largesses  of  corn. 
He  showed   confidence   in   the    people   whom  he  himself 
deceived.     He  was  modest  in  his  demeanor,  like  Pericles 
at  Athens.     He   visited   the    provinces  and    settled   their 
difficulties.     He    appointed   able    men    as    governors,  and 
perpetuated  a   standing   army.     He   repaired   the   public 
edifices,  and  adorned  the  city. 

But  he  gradually  assumed  all  the  great  offices  of  the 
state.  He  clothed  himself  with  the  powers  and  the  badges 
of  the  consuls,  the  praenomen  of  imperator,  the  functions 
of  perpetual  dictator.  He  exacted  the  military  oath  from 
the  whole  mass  of  the  people.  He  became  princeps  sena- 
tus.  He  claimed  the  prerogatives  of  the  tribunes,  which 
gave  to  him  inviolability,  with  the  right  of  protection  and 
pardon.  He  was  also  invested  with  the  illustrious  dignity 
of  the  supreme  pontificate.  As  the  Senate  and  the  people 
continued  to  meet  still  for  the  purpose  of  legislation,  he 


394    Internal   Condition  of  the  Roman  Umpire.     [CHAP.  X. 

controlled  the  same  by  assuming  the  initiative,  of  propos 
ing  the  laws.  He  took  occasion  to  give  to  his  edicts,  in 
his  consular  or  tribunitian  capacity,  a  perpetual  force;  and 
his  rescripts  or  replies  which  issued  from  his  council  cham 
ber,  were  registered  as  laws.  He  was  released  from  the 
laws,  and  claimed  the  name  of  Csesar.  The  people  were 
deprived  of  the  election  of  magistrates.  All  officers  of 
the  government  were  his  tools,  and  through  them  he  con 
trolled  all  public  affairs.  The  prefect  of  the  city  became 
virtually  his  minister  and  lieutenant.  Even  the  procon 
suls  received  their  appointment  from  him.  Thus  he  be 
came  supreme  arbiter  of  all  fortunes,  the  fountain  of  all 
influence,  the  centre  of  all  power,  absolute  over  the  lives 
and  fortunes  of  all  classes  of  men.  Strange  that  the  peo 
ple  should  have  submitted  to  such  monstrous  usurpations, 
although  decently  veiled  under  the  names  of  the  old  offices 
of  the  republic.  But  they  had  become  degenerate.  They 
wished  for  peace  and  leisure.  They  felt  the  uselessness 
of  any  independent  authority,  and  resigned  themselves  to 
a  condition  which  the  Romans  two  centuries  earlier  would 
have  felt  to  be  intolerable. 

Of  the  immediate  successors  of  Augustus,  none  equaled 
General  ^nm  H1  moderation  or  talents.  And  with  the  ex- 
oftt^Si-  ception  of  Titus  and  Vespasian,  the  emperors 
perors.  wno  comprise(j  the  Julian  family,  were  stained 
with  great  vices.  Some  were  monsters ;  others  were  mad 
men.  But,  as  a  whole,  they  were  not  deficient  in  natural 
ability.  Some  had  great  executive  talents,  like  Tiberius  — 
a  man  of  vast  experience.  But  he  was  a  cruel  and  re 
morseless  tyrant,  full  of  jealousy  and  vindictive  hatred. 
Still,  amid  disgraceful  pleasures,  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
cares  of  office,  and  exhibited  the  virtues  of  domestic  econ 
omy.  Nor  did  he  take  pleasure  in  the  sports  of  the  circus 
and  the  theatre,  like  most  of  his  successors.  But  he  de 
stroyed  all  who  stood  in  his  way,  as  most  tyrants  do. 
Nor  did  he  spare  his  own  relatives.  He  was  sensual  and 


CHAP,  x.]  Caligula. —  Claudius.  395 

intemperate  in  his  habits,  and  all  looked  to  him  with  awe 
and  trepidation.  There  was  a  perfect  reign  of  terror  at 
Rome  during  his  latter  days,  and  every  body  rejoiced  when 
the  tyrant  died. 

Caligula,  who  succeeded  Tiberius,  belonged  to  the  race 
of  madmen.     He  put  to  death  some  of  the  most 

r»  •  ,      .  Caligula. 

eminent  Komans,  in  order  to  seize  on  their  es 
tates.  He  repudiated  his  wife  ;  he  expressed  the  wish  that 
Rome  had  but  one  neck,  that  it  could  be  annihilated  by  a 
blow;  he  used  to  invite  his  favorite  horse  to  supper,  set 
ting  before  him  gilded  corn  and  wine  in  golden  goblets  ; 
he  wasted  immense  sums  in  useless  works  ;  he  took  away 
the  last  shadow  of  power  from  the  people  ;  he  impoverished 
Italy  by  senseless  extravagance  ;  he  wantonly  destroyed 
his  soldiers  loy  whole  companies  ;  he  was  doubtless  as  in 
sane  as  he  was  cruel,  luxurious,  rapacious,  and  prodigal  ; 
he  adorned  the  poops  of  galleys  with  precious  stones,  and 
constructed  arduous  works  with  no  other  purpose  than 
caprice  ;  he  often  dressed  like  a  woman,  and  generally 
appeared  with  a  golden  beard  ;  he  devoted  himself  to 
fencing,  driving,  singing,  and  dancing,  and  was  ruled  by 
gladiators,  charioteers,  and  actors.  Such  was  the  man  to 
whom  was  intrusted  the  guardianship  of  an  empire.  No 
wonder  he  was  removed  by  assassination. 

His  successor  was  Claudius,  made  emperor  by  the  Prae 
torians.  He  took  Augustus  for  his  model,  was 
well  disposed,  and  contributed  greatly  to  the  em 
bellishment  of  the  capital.  But  he  was  gluttonous  and 
intemperate,  and  subject  to  the  influence  of  women  and 
favorites.  He  was  feeble  in  mind  and  body.  He  was 
married  to  one  of  the  worst  women  in  history,  and  Messa- 
lina  has  passed  into  a  synonym  for  infamy.  By  this 
woman  he  was  influenced,  and  her  unblushing  effrontery, 
and  disgraceful  intrigues  made  the  reign  unfortunate.  She 
trafficked  in  the  great  offices  of  the  state,  and  sacrificed  the 
best  blood  of  the  class  to  which  she  belonged.  Claudius 


396    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  X. 

was  also  governed  by  freedmen,  who  performed  such  offi 
ces  as  Louis  XV.  intrusted  to  his  noble  vassals.  Claudius 
resembled  this  inglorious  monarch  in  many  respects,  and 
his  reign  was  as  disastrous  on  the  morals  of  the  people. 
When  the  death  of  his  wife  was  announced  to  him  at  the 
banquet,  he  called  for  wine,  and  listened  to  songs  and 
music.  But  she  was  succeeded  by  a  worse  woman,  Agrip- 
pina,  and  the  marriage  of  the  emperor  with  his  niece,  was 
a  scandal  as  well  as  a  misfortune.  Pliny  mentions  having 
seen  this  empress  in  a  sea-fight  on  the  Fucine  Lake, 
clothed  in  a  soldier's  cloak.  Daughter  of  an  emperator, 
sister  of  another,  and  consort  of  a  third,  she  is  best  known 
as  the  mother  of  Nero,  and  the  patroness  of  every  thing 
that  was  shameful  in  the  follies  of  the  times.  That  an 
emperor  should  wed  and  be  ruled  by  two  such  infamous 
women,  indicates  either  weakness  or  depravity,  and  both 
qualities  are  equally  fatal  to  the  welfare  of  the  state  over 
which  he  was  called  to  rule. 

The  supreme  power  then  fell  into  the  hands  of  Nero. 
He  gave  the  promise  of  virtue  and  ability,  and 
Seneca  condescended  to  the  most  flattering  pane 
gyrics  ;  but  the  prospects  of  ruling  beneficently  were  soon 
clouded  by  the  most  disgraceful  enormities.  He  destroyed 
all  who  were  offensive  to  those  who  ruled  him,  even  Sen 
eca  who  had  been  his  tutor.  Lost  to  all  dignity  and  de 
cency,  he  indulged  in  the  most  licentious  riots,  disguising 
himself  like  a  slave,  and  committing  midnight  assaults.  He 
killed  his  mother  and  his  aunt,  and  divorced  his  wife.  He 
sung  songs  on  the  public  stage,  and  was  more  ambitious  of 
being  a  good  flute-player  than  a  public  benefactor.  It  is 
even  said  that  he  fiddled  when  Rome  was  devastated  by  a 
fearful  conflagration.  He  built  a  palace,  which  covered 
entirely  Mount  Esquiline,  the  vestibule  of  which  contained 
a  colossal  statue  of  himself,  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet 
high.  His  gardens  were  the  scenes  of  barbarities,  and  his 
banqueting  halls  of  orgies  which  were  a  reproach  to  hu- 


CHAP.  X.] 


Galba.  —  Otho.  397 


inanity.  He  wasted  the  empire  by  enormous  contribu 
tions,  and  even  plundered  the  temples  of  his  own  capital. 
His  wife,  Poppsea,  died  of  a  kick  which  she  received  from 
this  monster,  because  she  had  petulantly  reproved  him. 
Longinus,  an  eminent  lawyer,  Lucan  the  poet,  and  Petro- 
nius  the  satirist,  alike,  were  victims  of  his  hatred.  This 
last  of  the  Ciesars,  allied  by  blood  to  the  imperial  house 
of  Julius,  killed  himself  in  his  thirty-first  year,  to  prevent 
assassination,  to  the  universal  joy  of  the  Roman  world, 
without  having  done  a  great  deed,  or  evinced  a  single  vir 
tue.  Flute-playing  and  chariot  races  were  his  main  diver 
sions,  and  every  public  interest  was  sacrificed  to  his  pleas 
ures,  or  his  vengeance  —  a  man  delighting  in  evil  for  its 
own  sake. 

Nero  was  succeeded  by  Galba,  who  also  was  governed 
by  favorites.  He  was  a  great  glutton,  exceed-  ^^ 
ingly  parsimonious,  and  very  unpopular.  In  the 
early  stages  of  his  life,  he  appeared  equal  to  the  trust  and 
dignity  reposed  in  him  ;  but  when  he  gained  the  sover 
eignty,  he  proved  deficient  in  those  qualities  requisite  to 
wield  it.  Tacitus  sums  up  his  character  in  a  sentence. 
"  He  appeared  superior  to  his  rank  before  he  was  emperor, 
and  would  have  always  been  considered  worthy  of  the  su 
preme  power,  if  he  had  not  obtained  it."  He  was  assassi 
nated  after  a  brief  reign. 

His  successor,  Otho,  finding  himself  unequal  to  the  posi 
tion  to  which  he  was  elevated,  ended  his  life  by  ^^ 
suicide.  Vitellius,  who  wore  the  ^urple  next  to 
him,  is  celebrated  for  cruelty  and  gluttony,  and  was  re 
moved  by  assassination.  Titus  and  Vespasian  were  hon 
orable  exceptions  to  the  tyrants  and  sensualists  that  had 
reigned  since  Augustus,  but  Domitian  surpassed  all  his 
predecessors  in  unrelenting  cruelty.  He  banished  all  phi 
losophers  from  Rome  and  Italy,  and  violently  persecuted 
the  Christians,  and  was  dissolute  and  lewd  in  his  private 
habits.  He  also  met  a  violent  death  from  the  assassin's 


398    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  X. 

dagger,  the  only  way  that  infamous  monsters  could  be 
hurled  from  power.  Yet  such  was  the  fulsome  flattery  to 
which  he  and  all  the  emperors  were  accustomed,  that  Mar 
tial  addressed  this  monster,  preeminent  of  all  in  wickedness 
and  cruelty,  — 

"  To  conquer  ardent,  and  to  triumph  shy, 

Fair  Victory  named  him  from  the  polar  sky. 

Fanes  to  the  gods,  to  men  he  manners  gave; 
Rest  to  the  sword,  and  respite  to  the  brave; 

So  high  could  ne'er  Herculean  power  aspire : 

The  god  should  bend  his  looks  to  the  Tarpeian  fire."  [ 

Of  Nerva,  Trajan,  Hadrian,  and  the  Antonines,  I  will 
not  speak,  since  they  were  great  exceptions  to  those  who 
generally  ruled  at  Rome.  Their  virtues  and  their  tal 
ents  are  justly  eulogized  by  all  historians.  Great  in  war, 
and  greater  in  peace,  they  were  ornaments  of  human 
ity.  Under  their  sway,  the  empire  was  prosperous  and 
happy.  Their  greatness  almost  atoned  for  the  weakness 
and  wickedness  of  their  predecessors.  If  such  men  as 
they  could  have  ruled  at  Rome,  the  imperial  regime 
would  have  been  the  greatest  blessing.  But  with  them 
expired  the  prosperity  of  the  empire,  and  they  were  suc 
ceeded  by  despots,  whose  vices  equaled  those  of  Nero  and 
The  latter  Vitellius.  Commodus,  Caracalla,  Elagabalus, 
emperors.  Maximin,  Philip,  Gallienus,  are  enrolled  on  the 
catalogue  of  those  who  have  obtained  an  infamous  immor 
tality.  At  last  no  virtue  or  talent  on  the  part  of  the  few 
emperors  who  really  labored  for  the  good  of  the  state, 
could  arrest  the  increasing  corruption.  The  empire  was 
doomed  when  Constantine  removed  the  seat  of  government 
to  Constantinople.  Forty-four  sovereigns  reigned  at  Rome 
from  Julius  to  Constantine,  in  a  period  of  little  more  than 
three  hundred  and  fifty  years,  of  whom  twenty  were  re 
moved  by  assassination.  What  a  commentary  on  imperial 
despotism  !  In  spite  of  the  virtues  of  such  men  as  Tra 
jan  and  the  Antonines,  the  history  of  the  emperors  is  a 
1  Book  ix.  101. 


CHAP,  x.]  The  Latter  Emperors.  399 

loathsome  chapter  of  human  depravity,  and  of  its  awful 
retribution.  Never  were  greater  powers  exercised  by 
single  men,  and  never  were  they  more  signally  abused. 
From  the  time  of  Augustus  those  virtues  which  give  glory 
to  society  steadily  declined.  The  reigns  of  the  emperors 
were  fatal  to  all  moral  elevation,  and  even  to  genius,  as 
in  the  latter  days  of  Louis  XIV.  The  great  lights  which 
illuminated  the  Augustan  age,  disappeared,  without  any 
to  take  their  place.  Under  the  emperors  there  are  fewer 
great  names  than  for  one  hundred  years  before  the  death 
of  Cicero.  Eloquence,  poetry,  and  philosophy  were  alike 
eclipsed.  Noble  aspirations  were  repressed  by  the  all- 
powerful  and  irresistible  despotism. 

The  tyranny  of  these  emperors  was  rendered  endurable 
by  the  general  familiarity  with  cruelty.  In  every  Roman 
palace,  the  slave  was  chained  to  the  doorway  ;  thongs  hung 
upon  the  stairs,  and  the  marks  of  violence  on  the  faces  of 
the  domestics  impressed  the  great  that  they  were  despots 
themselves.  They  were  accustomed  to  the  sight  of  blood 
in  the  sports  of  the  amphitheatre.  They  ruled  as  tyrants 
in  the  provinces  they  governed. 

But  it  must  be  allowed  that  the  system  of  education 
was  left  untrammeled  by  the  government,  provided  politics 
were  not  introduced  ;  and  it  produced  men  of  letters,  if 
not  practical  statesmen.  It  sharpened  the  intellect  and 
enlivened  thought.  The  text-books  of  the  schools  were 
the  most  famous  compositions  of  republican  Greece,  and 
the  favorite  subjects  of  declamation  were  the  glories  of  the 
free  men  of  antiquity.  Nor  was  there  any  restriction 
placed  upon  writing  or  publication  analogous  to  our  mod 
ern  censorship  of  the  press,  and  many  of  the  emperors, 
like  Claudius  and  Hadrian,  were  patrons  of  literature. 
Even  the  stoical  philosophers  who  tried  to  persuade  the 
emperor  that  he  was  a  slave,  were  endured,  since  they  did 
not  attempt  to  deprive  him  of  sovereignty. 

Nor  could  the  imperial   tyranny  be  resisted  by  minds 


400    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

enervated  by  indulgence  and  estranged  from  all  pure  as 
pirations,  by  the  pleasures  of  sense.  They  crouched  like 
dogs  under  the  uplifted  arm  of  masters.  They  did  not 
even  seek  to  fly  from  the  tyranny  which  ground  them 
down. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that,  on  the  whole,  this  long  suc- 
character  cession  of  emperors  was  more  intellectual  and 
emperors.  able  than  oriental  dynasties,  and  even  many 
occidental  ones  in  the  Middle  Ages,  when  the  principle  of 
legitimacy  was  undisputed.  The  Roman  emperors,  as  men 
of  talents,  favorably  compare  with  the  successors  of  Moham 
med,  and  the  Carlovingian  and  Merovingian  kings.  But 
if  these  talents  were  employed  in  systematically  crushing 
out  all  human  rights,  the  despotism  they  established  be 
came  the  more  deplorable. 

Nor  can  it  be  questioned  that  many  virtuous  princes 
reigned  at  Rome,  who  would  have  ornamented  any  age  or 
country.  Titus,  Hadrian,  Marcus  Aurelius,  Antoninus 
Pius,  Alexander  Severus,  Tacitus,  Probus,  Cams,  Con- 
stantine,  Theodosius,  were  all  men  of  remarkable  virtues 
as  well  as  talents.  They  did  what  they  could  to  promote 
public  prosperity.  Marcus  Aurelius  was  one  of  the  purest 
and  noblest  characters  of  antiquity.  Theodosius  for  genius 
and  virtue  ranks  with  the  most  illustrious  sovereigns  that 

o 

ever    wore  a    crown  —  with    Charlemagne,    with   Alfred, 
writh  William  III.,  with  Gustavus  Adolphus. 

Of  these  Roman  emperors  some  stand  out  as  world 
heroes  —  greatest  among  men  —  remarkable  for  executive 
ability.  Julius  is  the  most  renowned  name  of  antiquity. 
He  ranks  only  with  Napoleon  Bonaparte  in  modern  times. 
His  genius  was  transcendent ;  and,  like  Napoleon,  he 
had  great  traits  which  endear  him  to  the  world  —  gener 
osity,  magnanimity,  and  exceeding  culture  ;  orator,  histo 
rian,  and  lawyer,  as  well  as  statesman  and  general.  But 
he  overturned  the  liberties  of  his  country  to  gratify  a  mad 
ambition,  and  waded  through  a  sea  of  blood  to  the  master- 


CHAP.  X.]  Imperial  Despotism.  401 

ship  of  the  world.  Augustus  was  a  profound  statesman, 
and  a  successful  general  ;  but  he  was  stained  with  the 
arts  of  dissimulation  and  an  intense  ambition,  and  sacri 
ficed  public  liberties  and  rights  to  cement  his  power.  Even 
Diocletian,  tyrant  and  persecutor  as  he  was,  was  distin 
guished  for  masterly  abilities,  and  was  the  greatest  states 
man  whom  the  empire  saw,  with  the  exception  of  Augus 
tus.  Such  a  despot  as  Tiberius  ruled  with  justice  and 
ability.  Constantine  ranks  with  the  greatest  monarchs  of 
antiquity.  The  vices  and  ambition  of  these  men  did  not 
dim  the  lustre  of  their  genius  and  abilities. 

Their  cause  was  wrong.  It  matters  not  whether  the 
emperors  were  good  or  bad,  if  the  regime,  to  Theimperiai 
which  they  consecrated  their  energies,  was  ex-  desPotl8m- 
erted  to  crush  the  liberties  of  mankind.  The  imperial 
despotism,  whether  brilliant  or  disgraceful,  was  a  mourn 
ful  retrograde  in  the  polity  of  Rome.  It  implied  the  ex 
tinction  of  patriotism,  and  the  general  degradation  of  the 
people,  or  else  the  fabric  of  despotism  could  not  have 
been  erected.  It  would  have  been  impossible  in  the  days 
of  Cato,  Scipio,  or  Metellus.  It  was  simply  a  choice 
of  evils.  When  nations  emerge  from  utter  barbarism 
into  absolute  monarchies,  like  the  ancient  Persians  or 
the  modern  Russians,  we  forget  the  evils  of  a  central 
power  in  the  blessings  which  extend  indirectly  to  the 
degraded  people.  But  when  a  nation  loses  its  liberties, 
and  submits  without  a  struggle  to  tyrants,  it  is  a  sad 
spectacle  to  humanity.  The  despotism  of  Louis  XIV. 
was  not  disgraceful  to  the  French  people,  for  they  never 
had  enjoyed  constitutional  liberty.  The  despotism  of 
Louis  Napoleon  is  mournful,  because  the  nation  had  waded 
through  a  bloody  revolution  to  achieve  the  recognition  of 
great  rights  and  interests,  and  dreamed  that  they  were 
guaranteed.  It  is  a  retrograde  and  not  a  progress  ;  a 
reaction  of  liberty,  which  seats  Napoleon  on  the  throne 
of  Louis  Philippe  ;  even  as  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  is  the 

26 


402    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

saddest  chapter  in  English  history.  If  liberty  be  a  bless 
ing,  if  it  be  possible  for  nations  to  secure  it  permanently, 
then  the  regime  of  the  Roman  emperors  is  detestable  and 
mournful,  whatever  necessities  may  have  called  it  into 
being,  since  it  annulled  all  those  glorious  privileges  in 
which  ancient  patriots  gloried,  and  prevented  that  scope 
for  energies  which  made  Rome  mistress  of  the  world. 
It  was  impossible  for  the  empire  to  grow  stronger  and 
grander.  It  must  needs  become  weaker  and  more  corrupt, 
since  despotism  did  not  kindle  the  ambition  of  the  people, 
but  suppressed  their  noblest  sentiments,  and  confined  their 
energies  to  inglorious  pursuits.  Men  might  acquire  more 
gigantic  fortunes  under  the  emperors  than  in  the  times  of 
the  republic,  and  art  might  be  more  extensively  culti 
vated,  and  luxury  and  refinement  and  material  pleasures 
might  increase  ;  but  public  virtue  fled,  and  those  senti 
ments  on  which  national  glory  rests  vanished  before  the 
absorbing  egotism  which  pervaded  all  orders  and  classes. 
The  imperial  despotism  may  have  been  needed,  and  the 
empire  might  have  fallen,  even  if  it  had  not  existed  ;  still 
it  was  a  sad  and  mournful  necessity,  and  gives  a  humil 
iating  view  of  human  greatness.  No  lover  of  liberty  can 
contemplate  it  without  disgust  and  abhorrence.  No  phi 
losopher  can  view  it  without  drawing  melancholy  lessons 
of  human  degeneracy  —  an  impressive  moral  for  all  ages 
and  nations. 

If  we  turn  to  the  class  which,  before  the  dictatorship  of 
Julius,  had  the  ascendency  in  the  state,  and,  for  several 
centuries,  the  supreme  power,  we  shall  find  but  little  that 
is  flattering  to  a  nation  or  to  humanity. 

The  Roman  aristocracy  was  the  most  powerful,  most 
The  Roman  wealthy,  and  most  august  that  this  world  has 
aristocracy.  proDaDiy  seen.  It  was  under  patrician  leader 
ship  that  the  great  conquests  were  made,  and  the  greatness 
of  the  state  reached.  The  glory  of  Rome  was  centred  in 
those  proud  families  which  had  conquered  and  robbed  al] 


CHAP,  x.]  Roman  Aristocracy.  403 

the  nations  known  to  the  Greeks.  The  immortal  names 
of  ancient  Rome  are  identified  with  the  aristocracy.  It 
was  not  under  kings,  but  under  nobles,  that  military 
ambition  became  the  vice  of  the  most  exalted  characters. 
In  the  days  of  the  republic,  they  exhibited  a  stern  virtue, 
an  inflexible  policy,  an  indomitable  will,  and  most  ardent 
patriotism.  The  generals  who  led  the  armies  to  victory, 
the  statesmen  who  deliberated  in  the  Senate,  the  consuls, 
the  praetors,  the  governors,  originally  belonged  to  this  noble 
class.  It  monopolized  all  the  great  offices  of  the  state,  and 
it  maintained  its  powers  and  privileges,  in  spite  of  conspi 
racies  and  rebellions.  It  may  have  yielded  somewhat  to 
popular  encroachments,  but  when  the  people  began  to 
acquire  the  ascendency,  the  seeds  of  public  corruption 
were  sown.  The  real  dignity  and  glory  of  Rome  co 
existed  with  patrician  power. 

And  powerful  families  existed  in  Rome  until  the  fall  of 
the  empire.  Some  were  descendants  of  ancient  Great 
patrician  houses,  and  numbered  the  illustrious  famihes- 
generals  of  the  republic  among  their  ancestors.  Others 
owed  their  rank  and  consequence  to  the  accumulation  of 
gigantic  fortunes.  Others,  again,  rose  into  importance  from 
the  patronage  of  emperors.  All  the  great  conquerors  and 
generals  of  the  republic  were  founders  of  celebrated  fami 
lies,  which  never  lost  consideration.  Until  the  subversion 
of  the  constitution,  they  took  great  interest  in  politics,  and 
were  characterized  for  manly  patriotism.  Many  of  them 
were  famous  for  culture  of  mind  as  well  as  public  spirit. 
They  frowned  on  the  growing  immoralities,  and  maintained 
the  dignity  of  their  elevated  rank.  The  Senate  was  the 
most  august  assembly  ever  known  on  earth,  controlling 
kings  and  potentates,  and  making  laws  for  the  most  distant 
nations,  and  exercising  a  power  which  was  irresistible. 

Under  the  emperors  this  noble  class  had  degenerated  in 
morals  as  well  as  influence.     They  still  retained  Degeneracy 

.    .       -,,  ,  of  the 

their  enormous   fortunes,  originally  acquired   as  nobles. 


404    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

governors  of  provinces,  and  continually  increased  by  for 
tunate  marriages  and  speculations.  Indeed,  nothino*  was 
more  marked  and  melancholy  at  Rome  than  the  dispropor 
tionate  fortunes,  the  general  consequences  of  a  low  or  a 
corrupt  civilization.  In  the  better  days  of  the  republic, 
property  was  more  equally  divided.  The  citizens  were  not 
ambitious  for  more  land  than  they  could  conveniently  culti 
vate.  But  the  lands,  obtained  by  conquest,  gradually  fell 
into  the  possession  of  powerful  families.  The  classes  of 
society  widened  as  great  fortunes  were  accumulated.  Pride 
of  wealth  kept  pace  with  pride  of  ancestry.  And  when 
Plebeian  families  had  obtained  great  estates,  they  were 
amalgamated  with  the  old  aristocracy.  The  Equestrian 
order,  founded  substantially  on  wealth,  grew  daily  in  im 
portance.  Knights  ultimately  rivaled  senatorial  families. 
Even  freedmen,  in  an  age  of  commercial  speculation,  be 
came  powerful  for  their  riches.  Ultimately  the  rich  formed 
a  body  by  themselves.  Under  the  emperors,  the  pursuit 
of  money  became  a  passion  ;  and  the  rich  assumed  all  the 
importance  and  consideration  which  had  once  been  be 
stowed  upon  those  who  had  rendered  great  public  services. 
The  laws  of  property  were  rigorous  among  the  Romans, 
and  wealth,  when  once  obtained,  was  easily  secured  and 
transmitted. 

Such  gigantic  fortunes  were  ultimately  made,  since  the 
Gigantic  Romans  were  masters  of  the  world,  that  Rome 
became  a  city  of  palaces,  and  the  spoils  and 
rrches  of  all  nations  flowed  to  the  capital.  Rome  was  a 
city  of  princes,  and  wealth  gave  the  highest  distinction. 
The  fortunes  were  almost  incredible.  It  has  been  esti- 
.mated  that  the  income  of  some  of  the  richest  of  the  senato 
rial  families  equaled  a  sum  of  five  million  dollars  a  year  in 
our  money.  It  took  eighty  thousand  dollars  a  year  to 
support  the  ordinary  senatorial  dignity.  Some  senators 
owned  whole  provinces.  Trimalchio  —  a  rich  freedman 
whom  Petronius  ridiculed  —  could  afford  to  lose  thirty 


CHAP,  x.]  Luxury  of  the  Nobles.  405 

millions  of  sesterces  in  a  single  voyage  without  sensibly 
diminishing  his  fortune.  Pallas,  a  freedman  of  the  Emperor 
Claudius,  possessed  a  fortune  of  three  hundred  millions  of 
sesterces.  Seneca,  the  philosopher,  amassed  an  enormous 
fortune. 

The  Romans  were  a  sensual,  ostentatious,  and  luxurious 
people,  and  they  accordingly  wasted  their  for-  character  of 
tunes  by  an  extravagance  in  their  living  which  thenobles- 
has  had  no  parallel.  The  pleasures  of  the  table  and  the 
cares  of  the  kitchen  were  the  most  serious  avocation  of 
the  aristocracy  in  the  days  of  the  greatest  corruption. 
They  had  around  them  a  regular  court  of  parasites  and 
flatterers,  and  they  employed  even  persons  of  high  rank  as 
their  chamberlains  and  stewards.  Carving  was  taught  in 
celebrated  schools,  and  the  masters  of  this  sublime  art 
were  held  in  higher  estimation  than  philosophers  or  poets. 
Says  Juvenal :  — 

"  To  such  perfection  now  is  carving  brought, 
That  different  gestures,  by  our  curious  men 
Are  used  for  different  dishes,  hare  or  hen." 

Their  entertainments  were  accompanied  with  every  thing 
which  could  flatter  vanity  or  excite  the  passions.  Exce88ive 
Musicians,  male  and  female  dancers,  players  of  luxur^- 
farce  and  pantomime,  jesters,  buffoons,  and  gladiators, 
exhibited  while  the  guests  reclined  at  table.  The  tables 
were  made  of  Thuja-root,  with  claws  of  ivory  or  Delian 
bronze,  and  cost  immense  sums.  Even  Cicero,  in  an 
economical  age,  paid  six  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  for  his 
banqueting  table.  These  tables  were  waited  upon  by  an 
army  of  slaves,  clad  in  costly  dresses.  In  the  intervals  of 
courses  they  played  with  dice,  or  listened  to  music,  or  were 
amused  with  dances.  They  wore  a  great  profusion  of 
jewels  —  such  as  necklaces  and  rings  and  bracelets.  They 
reclined  at  table  after  the  fashion  of  the  Orientals.  They 
ate,  as  delicacies,  water-rats  and  white  worms.  Gluttony 
was  carried  to  such  a  point  that  the  sea  and  earth  scarcely 


406    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Umpire.    [CHAP.  x. 

sufficed  to  set  off  their  tables.  The  women  passed  -whole 
nights  at  the  table,  and  were  proud  of  their  power  to 
carry  off  an  excess  of  wine.  As  Cleopatra  says  of  her 
riotings  with  Antony,  — 

"  O  times !  — 

I  laughed  him  out  of  patience ;  and  that  night 
I  laughed  him  into  patience:  and  next  morn, 
Ere  the  ninth  hour,  1  drank  him  to  his  bed." 

The  wines  were  often  kept  for  two  ages,  and  some  quali- 
Luxuryof  ties  were  so  highly  prized  as  to  sell  for  about 

the  aristoc 
racy,  twenty    dollars    an    ounce.      Large    hogs    were 

roasted  whole  at  a  banquet.  The  ancient  epicures  expa 
tiate  on  ram's-head  pies,  stuffed  fowls,  boiled  calf,  and 
pastry  stuffed  with  raisins  and  nuts.  Dishes  were  made 
of  gold  and  silver,  set  with  precious  stones.  Cicero  and 
Pompey  one  day  surprised  Lucullus  at  one  of  his  ordinary 
banquets,  when  he  expected  no  guests,  and  even  that  cost 
fifty  thousand  drachmas  —  about  four  thousand  dollars. 
His  beds  were  of  purple,  and  his  vessels  glittered  with 
jewels.  The  halls  of  Heliogabalus  were  hung  with 
cloth  of  gold,  enriched  with  jewels.  His  beds  were  of 
massive  silver,  his  table  and  plate  of  pure  gold,  and  his 
mattresses,  covered  with  carpets  of  cloth  of  gold,  were 
stuffed  with  down  found  only  under  the  wings  of  partridges. 
Crassus  paid  one  hundred  thousand  sesterces  for  a  golden 
cup.  Banqueting  rooms  were  strewed  with  lilies  and 
roses.  Apicius,  in  the  time  of  Trajan,  spent  one  hundred 
millions  of  sesterces  in  debauchery  and  gluttony.  Having 
only  ten  millions  left,  he  ended  his  life  with  poison,  think 
ing  he  might  die  of  hunger.  The  suppers  of  Heliogabalus 
never  cost  less  than  one  hundred  thousand  sesterces.  And 
things  were  valued  for  their  cost  and  rarity,  rather  than 
their  real  value.  Enormous  prices  were  paid  for  carp, 
the  favorite  dish  of  the  Romans.  Drusillus,  a  freedman  of 
Claudius,  caused  a  dish  to  be  made  of  five  hundred  pounds 
weight  of  silver.  Vitellius  had  one  made  of  such  pro- 


CHAP,  x.]          Luxury  and  Folly  of  the  Nobles.  407 

digious  size  that  they  were  obliged  to  build  a  furnace  on 
purpose  for  it ;  and  at  a  feast  in  honor  of  this  dish  which 
he  gave,  it  was  filled  with  the  livers  of  the  scarrus  (fish), 
the  brains  of  peacocks,  the  tongues  of  a  bird  of  red  plumage, 
called  Phsesuicopterus,  and  the  roes  of  lampreys  caught  in 
the  Carpathian  Sea.  Falernian  wine  was  never  drunk 
until  ten  years  old,  and  it  was  generally  cooled  with  ices. 
The  passion  for  play  was  universal.  Nero  ven-  Luxuryof 
tured  four  hundred  thousand  sesterces  on  a  single  thenobles- 
throw  of  the  dice.  Cleopatra,  when  she  feasted  Antony, 
gave  each  time  to  that  general  the  gold  vessels,  enriched 
with  jewels,  the  tapestry  and  purple  carpets,  embroidered 
with  gold,  which  had  been  used  in  the  repasts.  Horace 
speaks  of  a  debauchee  who  drank  at  a  meal  a  goblet  of 
vinegar,  in  which  he  dissolved  a  pearl  worth  a  million  of 
sesterces,  which  hung  at  the  ear  of  his  mistress.  Precious 
stones  were  so  common  that  a  woman  of  the  utmost  simplicity 
dared  not  go  without  her  diamonds.  Even  men  wore  jewels, 
especially  elaborate  rings,  and  upon  all  the  fingers  at  last. 
The  taste  of  the  Roman  aristocracy,  with  their  immense 
fortunes,  inclined  them  to  pomp,  to  extravagance,  to  osten 
tatious  modes  of  living,  to  luxurious  banquets,  to  conven 
tionalities  and  ceremonies,  to  an  unbounded  epicureanism. 
They  lived  for  the  present  hour,  and  for  sensual  pleasures. 
There  was  no  elevation  of  life.  It  was  the  body  and  not 
the  soul,  the  present  and  not  the  future,  which  alone  con 
cerned  them.  They  were  grossly  material  in  all  their  desires 
and  habits.  They  squandered  money  on  their  banquets, 
their  stables,  and  their  dress.  And  it  was  to  their  crimes, 
says  Juvenal,  that  they  were  indebted  for  their  gardens, 
their  palaces,  their  tables,  and  their  fine  old  plate.  The 
day  was  portioned  out  in  the  public  places,  in  the  bath,  the 
banquet.  Martial  indignantly  rebukes  these  extravagances, 
as  unable  to  purchase  happiness,  in  his  Epigram  to  Quin- 
tus  :  "  Because  you  purchase  slaves  at  two  hundred  thousand 
sesterces  ;  because  you  drink  wines  stored  during  the  reign 


408    Internal   Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

of  Numa  ;  because  your  furniture  costs  you  a  million  ;  be 
cause  a  pound  weight  of  wrought  silver  costs  you  five 
thousand  ;  because  a  golden  chariot  becomes  yours  at  the 
price  of  a  whole  farm  ;  because  your  mule  costs  you  more 
than  the  value  of  a  house  —  do  not  imagine  that  such  ex 
penses  are  the  proof  of  a  great  mind."  l 

Unbounded  pride,  insolence,  inhumanity,  selfishness,  and 
scorn  marked  this  noble  class.  Of  course  there  were  ex 
ceptions,  but  the  historians  and  satirists  give  the  saddest 
pictures  of  their  cold-hearted  depravity.  The  sole  result 
of  friendship  with  a  great  man  was  a  meal,  at  which  flat 
tery  and  sycophancy  were  expected  ;  but  the  best  wine  was 
drunk  by  the  host,  instead  of  by  the  guest.  Provinces  were 
ransacked  for  fish  and  fowl  and  game  for  the  tables  of  the 
great,  and  sensualism  was  thought  to  be  no  reproach.  They 
violated  the  laws  of  chastity  and  decorum.  They  scourged 
to  death  their  slaves.  They  degraded  their  wives  and  sis 
ters.  They  patronized  the  most  demoralizing  sports.  They 
enriched  themselves  by  usury,  and  enjoyed  monopolies. 
They  practiced  no  generosity,  except  at  their  banquets, 
when  ostentation  balanced  their  avarice.  They  measured 
every  thing  by  the  money-standard.  They  had  no  taste  for 
literature,  but  they  rewarded  sculptors  and  painters,  if 
they  prostituted  art  to  their  vanity  or  passions.  They  had 
no  reverence  for  religion,  and  ridiculed  the  gods.  Their 
distinguishing  vices  were  meanness  and  servility,  the  pur 
suit  of  money  by  every  artifice,  the  absence  of  honor,  and 
unblushing  sensuality. 

Gibbon  has  eloquently  abridged  the  remarks  of  Am- 
Gibbon's  mianus  Marcellinus,  respecting  these  people : 

account  of  .  .  ° 

the  nobles.  "  They  contend  with  each  other  in  the  empty 
vanity  of  titles  and  surnames.  They  affect  to  multiply  their 
likenesses  in  statues  of  bronze  or  marble  ;  nor  are  they  sat 
isfied  unless  these  statues  are  covered  with  plates  of  gold. 
They  boast  of  the  rent-rolls  of  their  estates.  They  meas- 

i  Book  iii.  p.  62. 


CHAP,  x.]       Sarcasms  of  Ammianus  Marcellinus.  409 

ure  their  rank  and  consequence  by  the  loftiness  of  their 
chariots,  and  the  weighty  magnificence  of  their  dress.  Their 
long  robes  of  silk  and  purple  float  in  the  wind,  and,  as  they 
are  agitated  by  art  or  accident,  they  discover  the  under  gar 
ments,  the  rich  tunics  embroidered  with  the  figures  of  various 
animals.  Followed  by  a  train  of  fifty  servants,  and  tear 
ing  up  the  pavement,  they  move  along  the  streets  as  if 
they  traveled  with  post-horses  ;  and  the  example  of  the 
senators  is  boldly  imitated  by  the  matrons  and  ladies, 
whose  covered  carriages  are  continually  driving  round 
the  immense  space  of  the  city  and  suburbs.  When 
ever  they  condescend  to  enter  the  public  baths,  they 
assume,  on  their  entrance,  a  tone  of  loud  and  insolent  com 
mand,  and  maintain  a  haughty  demeanor,  which,  perhaps, 
might  have  been  excused  in  the  great  Marcellus,  after  the 
conquest  of  Syracuse.  Sometimes  these  heroes  undertake 
more  arduous  achievements :  they  visit  their  estates  in 
Italy,  and  procure  themselves,  by  servile  hands,  the  amuse 
ments  of  the  chase.  And  if,  at  any  time,  especially  on  a 
hot  day,  they  have  the  courage  to  sail  in  their  gilded  galleys 
from  the  Lucrine  Lake  to  their  elegant  villas  on  the  sea- 
coast  of  Puteoli  and  Cargeta,  they  compare  these  expedi 
tions  to  the  marches  of  Caesar  and  Alexander.  Yet,  should 
a  fly  presume  to  settle  on  the  silken  folds  of  their  gilded 
umbrellas,  should  a  sunbeam  penetrate  through  some  un 
guarded  chink,  they  deplore  their  intolerable  hardships, 
and  lament,  in  affected  language,  that  they  were  Sarcasms  of 
not  born  in  the  regions  of  eternal  darkness.  In  Marceiimus. 
the  exercise  of  domestic  jurisdiction  they  express  an  ex 
quisite  sensibility  for  any  personal  injury,  and  a  contempt 
uous  indifference  for  the  rest  of  mankind.  When  they 
have  called  for  warm  water,  should  a  slave  be  tardy  in  his 
obedience,  he  is  chastised  with  an  hundred  lashes ;  should 
he  commit  a  willful  murder,  his  master  will  mildly  observe 
that  he  is  a  worthless  fellow,  and  should  be  punished  if  he 
repeat  the  offense.  If  a  foreigner  of  no  contemptible  rank 


410    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

be  introduced  to  these  senators,  he  is  welcomed  with  such 
warm  professions  that  he  retires  charmed  with  their  affa 
bility  ;  but  when  he  repeats  his  visit,  he  is  surprised  and 
mortified  to  find  that  his  name,  his  person,  and  his  country 
are  forgotten;  The  modest,  the  sober,  and  the  learned  are 
rarely  invited  to  their  sumptuous  banquets  ;  but  the  most 
worthless  of  mankind  —  parasites  who  applaud  every  look 
and  gesture,  who  gaze  with  rapture  on  marble  columns  and 
variegated  pavements,  and  strenuously  praise  the  pomp  and 
elegance  which  he  is  taught  to  consider  as  a  part  of  his 
personal  merit.  At  the  Roman  table,  the  birds,  the  squir 
rels,  the  fish  which  appear  of  uncommon  size,  are  contem 
plated  with  curious  attention,  and  notaries  are  summoned 
to  attest,  by  authentic  record,  their  real  weight.  Another 
method  of  introduction  into  the  houses  of  the  great  is  skill 
in  games,  which  is  a  sure  road  to  wealth  and  reputation. 
A  master  of  this  sublime  art,  if  placed,  at  a  supper,  below 
a  magistrate,  displays  in  his  countenance  a  surprise  and 
indignation  which  Cato  might  be  supposed  to  feel  when  re 
fused  the  praetorship.  The  acquisition  of  knowledge  seldom 
engages  the  attention  of  the  nobles,  who  abhor  the  fatigue 
and  disdain  the  advantages  of  study  ;  and  the  only  books 
they  peruse  are  the  '  Satires  of  Juvenal,'  or  the  fabulous 
histories  of  Marius  Maximus.  The  libraries  they  have  in 
herited  from  their  fathers  are  secluded,  like  dreary  sepul 
chres,  from  the  light  of  day  ;  but  the  costly  instruments 
of  the  theatre,  flutes  and  hydraulic  organs,  are  constructed 
for  their  use.  In  their  palaces  sound  is  preferred  to  sense, 
and  the  care  of  the  body  to  that  of  the  mind.  The  suspicion 
of  a  malady  is  of  sufficient  weight  to  excuse  the  visits  of 
the  most  intimate  friends.  The  prospect  of  gain  will  urge 
a  rich  and  gouty  senator  as  far  as  Spoleta  ;  every  senti 
ment  of  arrogance  and  dignity  is  suppressed  in  the  hope  of 
an  inheritance  or  legacy,  and  a  wealthy,  childless  citizen 
is  the  most  powerful  of  the  Romans.  The  distress  which 
follows  and  chastises  extravagant  luxury  often  reduces  the 


CHAP,  x.]          Character  of  the  Roman  Nobles.  411 

great  to  use  the  most,  humiliating  expedients.  When  they 
wish  to  borrow,  they  employ  the  base  and  supplicating  style 
of  the  slaves  in  the  comedy  ;  but  when  they  are  called 
upon  to  pay,  they  assume  the  royal  and  tragic  declamations 
of  the  grandsons  of  Hercules.  If  the  demand  is  repeated, 
they  readily  procure  some  trusty  sycophant  to  maintain  a 
charge  of  poison  or  magic  against  the  insolent  creditor,  who 
is  seldom  released  from  prison  until  he  has  signed  a  dis 
charge  of  the  whole  debt.  And  these  vices  are  mixed  with 
a  puerile  superstition  which  disgraces  their  understanding. 
They  listen  with  confidence  to  the  productions  of  haru- 
spices,  who  pretend  to  read  in  the  entrails  of  victims  the 
signs  of  future  greatness  and  prosperity  ;  and  this  super 
stition  is  observed  among  those  very  skeptics  who  impiously 
deny  or  doubt  the  existence  of  a  celestial  power."  1 

Such,  in  the  latter  days  of  the  empire,  was  the  leading 
class  at  Rome,  and  probably  in  the  cities  which  aped  the 
fashions  of  the  capital.  There  was  a  melancholy  absence 
of  elevation  of  sentiment,  of  patriotism,  of  manly  courage, 
and  of  dignity  of  character.  Frivolity  and  luxury  loosened 
all  the  ties  of  society.  The  animating  principle  of  their  lives 
was  a  heartless  Epicureanism.  They  lived  for  the  present 
hour,  and  for  their  pleasures,  indifferent  to  the  great  inter 
ests  of  the  public,  and  to  the  miseries  of  the  poor.  They 
were  bound  up  in  themselves.  They  were  grossly  mate 
rial  in  all  their  aims.  They  had  lost  all  ideas  of  public 
virtue.  They  degraded  women  ;  they  oppressed  the  peo 
ple  ;  they  laughed  at  philanthropy ;  they  could  not  be 
reached  by  elevated  sentiments ;  they  had  no  concern  for 
the  future.  Scornful,  egotistical,  haughty,  self-indulgent, 
affected,  cynical,  all  their  thoughts  and  conversation  were 
directed  to  frivolities.  Nothing  made  any  impression  upon 
them  but  passing  vanities.  They  ignored  both  Heaven  and 
Hell.  They  were  like  the  courtiers  of  Louis  XV.  in  the 

1  Found  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  the  fourteenth,  and  the  fourth  of  the  twenty- 
eighth,  book  of  Ammianus  Marcellinus. 


412    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

most  godless  period  of  the  monarchy.  They  were  worse, 
for  they  superadded  pagan  infidelities.  There  were  mem 
orable  exceptions,  but  not  many,  until  Christianity  had 
reached  the  throne.  "  One  after  another,  the  nobles  sunk 
into  a  lethargy  almost  without  a  parallel.  The  proudest 
names  of  the  old  republic  were  finally  associated  with  the 
idlest  amusements  and  the  most  preposterous  novelties.  A 
Gabrius,  a  Callius,  and  a  Crassus  were  immortalized  by  the 
elegance  of  their  dancing.  A  Lucullus,  a  Hortensius,  a 
Philippus  estimated  one  another,  not  by  their  eloquence, 
their  courage,  or  their  virtue,  but  by  the  perfection  of  their 
fish-ponds,  and  the  singularity  of  the  breeds  they  nourished. 
They  seemed  to  touch  the  sky  with  their  ringer  if  they 
had  stocked  their  preserves  with  bearded  mullets,  and 
taught  them  to  recognize  their  masters'  voices,  and  come 
to  be  fed  from  their  hands."  l 

As  for  the  miserable  class  whom  they  oppressed,  their 
condition  became  worse  every  day  from  the  accession  of  the 
emperors.  The  Plebeians  had  ever  disdained  those  arts 
which  now  occupy  the  middle  classes.  These  were  in 
trusted  to  slaves.  Originally,  they  employed  themselves 
upon  the  lands  which  had  been  obtained  by  conquest.  But 
these  lands  were  gradually  absorbed  or  usurped  by  the 
large  proprietors.  The  small  farmers,  oppressed  with  debt 
and  usury,  parted  with  their  lands  to  their  wealthy  cred 
itors.  In  the  time  of  Cicero,  it  was  computed  that  there 
were  only  about  two  thousand  citizens  possessed  of  inde 
pendent  property.  These  two  thousand  people  owned  the 
world.  The  rest  were  dependent ;  and  they  were  power 
less  when  deprived  of  political  rights,  for  the  great  candi 
date  for  public  honors  and  offices  liberally  paid  for  votes. 
But  under  the  emperors  the  commons  had  subsided  into 
a  miserable  populace,  fed  from  the  public  stores.  They 
would  have  perished  but  for  largesses.  Monthly  distribu 
tions  of  corn  were  converted  into  daily  allowance  for 

1  Merivale,  chap.  ii. 


CHAP.  X.]  Condition  of  the  People.  413 

bread.  They  were  amused  with  games  and  festivals. 
From  the  stately  baths  they  might  be  seen  to  issue  without 
shoes  and  without  a  mantle.  They  loitered  in  the  public 
streets,  and  dissipated  in  gaming  their  miserable  pittance. 
They  spent  the  hours  of  the  night  in  the  lowest  resorts  of 
crime  and  misery.  As  many  as  four  hundred  thousand 
sometimes  assembled  to  witness  the  chariot  races.  The 
vast  theatres  were  crowded  to  see  male  and  female  dancers. 
The  amphitheatres  were  still  more  largely  attended  by 
the  better  populace.  They  expired  in  wretched  apart 
ments  without  attracting  the  attention  of  government. 
Pestilence  and  famine  and  squalid  misery  thinned  their 
ranks,  and  they  would  have  been  annihilated  but  for  con 
stant  succession  to  their  ranks  from  the  provinces.  In  the 
busy  streets  of  Rome  might  be  seen  adventurers  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  disgraced  by  all  the  various  vices  of 
their  respective  countries.  They  had  no  education,  and 
but  little  of  religious  advantages.  They  were  held  in  ter 
ror  by  both  priests  and  nobles.  The  priest  terrified  them 
with  Egyptian  sorceries,  the  noble  crushed  them  by  iron 
weight.  Like  lazzaroni,  they  lived  in  the  streets,  or  were 
crowded  into  filthy  apartments.  Several  families  tenanted 
the  same  house.  A  gladiatorial  show  delighted  them,  but 
the  circus  was  their  peculiar  joy.  Here  they  sought  to 
drown  the  consciousness  of  their  squalid  degradation.  They 
were  sold  into  slavery  for  trifling  debts.  They  had  no 
home.  The  poor  man  had  no  ambition  or  hope.  His  wife 
was  a  slave  ;  his  children  were  precocious  de-  condition  of 
mons,  whose  prattle  was  the  cry  for  bread,  whose  tbePe°Ple- 
laughter  was  the  howl  of  pandemonium,  whose  sports  were 
the  tricks  of  premature  iniquity,  whose  beauty  was  the 
squalor  of  disease  and  filth.  He  fled  from  a  wife  in  whom 
he  had  no  trust,  from  children  in  whom  he  had  no  hope, 
from  brothers  for  whom  he  felt  no  sympathy,  from  parents 
for  whom  he  felt  no  reverence.  The  circus  was  his  home, 
the  wild  beast  his  consolation.  The  future  was  a  bfank. 


414:    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

Death  was  the  release  from  suffering.  Historians  and  poets 
say  but  little  of  his  degraded  existence  ;  but  from  the  few 
hints  we  have,  we  infer  depravity  and  brutal  tastes.  If 
degraded  at  all,  they  must  have  been  very  degraded,  since 
the  Romans  had  but  little  sentiment,  and  no  ideality. 
They  were  sunk  in  vice,  for  they  had  no  sense  of  responsi 
bility.  They  never  emerged  from  their  wretched  condi 
tion.  The  philosophers,  poets,  scholars,  and  lawyers  of 
Rome,  sprang  uniformly  from  the  aristocratic  classes. 
In  the  provinces,  the  poor  sometimes  rose,  but  very  sel 
dom.  The  whole  aspect  of  society  was  a  fearful  inequal 
ity —  disproportionate  fortunes,  slavery,  and  beggary. 
There  was  no  middle  class,  of  any  influence  or  considera 
tion.  It  was  for  the  interest  of  people  without  means  to 
enroll  themselves  in  the  service  of  the  rich.  Hence  the 
immense  numbers  employed  in  the  palaces  in  menial  work. 
They  would  have  been  enrolled  in  the  armies,  but  for 
their  inefficiency.  The  army  was  recruited  from  the  prov 
inces  —  the  rural  population  —  and  even  from  the  barba 
rians  themselves.  There  were  no  hospitals  for  the  sick 
and  the  old,  except  one  on  an  island  in  the  Tiber.  The 
old  and  helpless  were  left  to  die,  unpitied  and  unconsoled. 
Suicide  was  so  common  that  it  attracted  no  attention,  but 
infanticide  was  not  so  marked,  since  there  was  so  little 
feeling  of  compassion  for  the  future  fate  of  the  miserable 
children.  Superstition  culminated  at  Rome,  for  there  were 
seen  the  priests  and  devotees  of  all  the  countries  which  it 
governed  — "  the  dark-skinned  daughters  of  Isis,  with 
drum  and  timbrel  and  wanton  mien  ;  devotees  of  the  Per 
sian  Mithras,  imported  by  the  Pompeians  from  Cilicia ; 
emasculated  Asiatics,  priests  of  Berecynthian  Cybele,  with 
their  wild  dances  and  discordant  cries ;  worshipers  of  the 
great  goddess  Diana ;  barbarian  captives  with  the  rites  of 
Teuton  priests  ;  Syrians,  Jews,  Chaldean  astrologers,  and 
Thessalian  sorcerers."  Oh,  what  scenes  of  sin  and  misery 
did  fliat  imperial  capital  witness  in  the  third  and  fourth 


CHAP,  x.j  The  Slaves.  415 

centuries  —  sensualism  and  superstition,  fears  and  tribula 
tions,  pestilence  and  famine,  even  amid  the  pomps  of  sen 
atorial  families,  and  the  grandeur  of  palaces  and  temples. 
"  The  crowds  which  flocked  to  Rome  from  the  eastern 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  brought  with  them  practices 
extremely  demoralizing.  The  awful  rites  of  initiation,  the 
tricks  of  magicians,  the  pretended  virtues  of  amulets  and 
charms,  the  riddles  of  emblematical  idolatry,  with  which 
the  superstition  of  the  East  abounded,  amused  the  languid 
voluptuaries  who  neither  had  the  energy  for  a  moral  belief, 
nor  the  boldness  requisite  for  logical  skepticism."  They 
were  brutal,  bloodthirsty,  callous  to  the  sight  of  suffering, 
and  familiar  with  cruelties  and  crimes.  They  were  super 
stitious,  without  religious  faith,  without  hope,  and  without 
God  in  the  world. 

We  cannot  pass  by,  in  this  enumeration  of  the  differ 
ent  classes  of  Roman  society,  the  number  and  condition 
of  slaves.  A  large  part  of  the  population  belonged  to  this 
servile  class.  Originally  introduced  by  foreign  conquest, 
it  was  increased  by  those  who  could  not  pay  their  debts. 
The  single  campaign  of  Regulus  introduced  as  many  as  a 
fifth  part  of  the  whole  population.  Four  hundred  were 
maintained  in  a  single  palace,  at  a  comparatively  early 
period.  A  freedman  in  the  time  of  Augustus  left  behind 
him  four  thousand  one  hundred  and  sixteen.  Horace  re 
garded  two  hundred  as  the  suitable  establishment  for  a 
gentleman.  Some  senators  owned  twenty  thousand.  Gib 
bon  estimates  the  number  at  about  sixty  millions,  one  half 
of  the  whole  population.  One  hundred  thousand  captives 
were  taken  in  the  Jewish  war,  wrho  were  sold  as  slaves, 
and  sold  as  cheap  as  horses.1  Blair  supposes  that  there 
were  three  slaves  to  one  freeman,  from  the 
conquest  of  Greece  to  the  reign  of  Alexander 
Severus.  Slaves  often  cost  two  hundred  thousand  ses- 

1  Wm.  Blair,  On  Roman  Slavery,  Edinburgh,  1833  ;  Robertson,  On  the  Slate 
of  the  World  at  the  Introduction  of  Christ. 


416    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  X. 

terces.1  Every  body  was  eager  to  possess  a  slave.  At 
one  time  his  life  was  at  the  absolute  control  of  his  master. 
He  could  be  treated  at  all  times  with  brutal  seventy. 
Fettered  and  branded  he  toiled  to  cultivate  the  lands 
of  an  imperious  master,  and  at  night  he  was  shut  up 
in  subterranean  cells.  The  laws  did  not  recognize  his 
claim  to  be  considered  scarcely  as  a  moral  agent.  He  was 
secundum  hominum  genus.  He  could  acquire  no  rights, 
social  or  political.  He  was  incapable  of  inheriting  prop 
erty,  or  making  a  will,  or  contracting  a  legal  marriage. 
His  value  was  estimated  like  that  of  a  brute.  He  was  a 
thing  and  not  a  person  —  "a  piece  of  furniture  possessed 
of  life."  He  was  his  master's  property,  to  be  scourged, 
or  tortured,  or  crucified.  If  a  wealthy  proprietor  died, 
under  circumstances  which  excited  suspicion  of  foul  play, 
his  whole  household  was  put  to  the  torture.  It  is  recorded, 
that,  on  the  murder  of  a  man  of  consular  dignity  by  a 
slave,  every  slave  in  his  possession  was  condemned  to 
death.  Slaves  swelled  the  useless  rabbles  of  the  cities, 
and  devoured  the  revenues  of  the  state.  All  manual  labor 
was  done  by  slaves,  in  towns  as  well  as  the  country.  Even 
the  mechanical  arts  were  cultivated  by  the  slaves.  And 
more,  slaves  were  school  masters,  secretaries,  actors,  musi 
cians,  and  physicians.  In  intelligence,  they  were  on  an 
equality  with  their  masters.  They  came  from  Greece  and 
Asia  Minor  and  Syria,  as  well  as  from  Gaul  and  the  Afri 
can  deserts.  They  were  white  as  well  as  black.  All  cap 
tives  in  war  were  made  slaves,  and  unfortunate  debtors. 
Sometimes  they  could  regain  their  freedom  ;  but,  generally, 
their  condition  became  more  and  more  deplorable.  What 
a  state  of  society  when  a  refined  and  cultivated  Greek 
could  be  made  to  obey  the  most  offensive  orders  of  a  capri 
cious  and  sensual  Roman,  without  remuneration,  without 
thanks,  without  favor,  without  redress.2  What  was  to  be 

1  Martial,  xii.  62. 

2  Says  Juvenal,  Sat.  vi.,  "  Crucify  that  slave.    What  is  the  charge  to  call  for 


CHAP,  x.]  Degradation  of  Woman.  417 

expected  of  a  class  who  had  no  object  to  live  for.  They 
became  the  most  degraded  of  mortals,  ready  for  pillage, 
and  justly  to  be  feared  in  the  hour  of  danger.  Slavery 
undoubtedly  proved  the  most  destructive  canker 
of  the  Roman  state.  It  destroyed  its  vitality.  It 
was  this  social  evil,  more  than  political  misrule,  which  un 
dermined  the  empire.  Slavery  proved  at  Rome  a  mon 
strous  curse,  destroying  all  manliness  of  character,  creating 
contempt  of  honest  labor,  making  men  timorous  yet  cruel, 
idle,  frivolous,  weak,  dependent,  powerless.  The  empire 
might  have  lasted  centuries  longer  but  for  this  incubus, 
the  standing  disgrace  of  the  pagan  world.  Paganism 
never  recognized  what  is  most  noble  and  glorious  in  man  ; 
never  recognized  his  equality,  his  common  brotherhood,  his 
natural  rights.  There  was  no  compunction,  no  remorse  in 
depriving  human  beings  of  their  highest  privileges.  Its 
whole  tendency  was  to  degrade  the  soul,  and  cause  forget- 
fulness  of  immortality.  Slavery  thrives  best,  when  the 
generous  instincts  are  suppressed,  and  egotism  and  sensu 
ality  and  pride  are  the  dominant  springs  of  human  action. 
The  same  influences  which  tended  to  rob  man  of  the 
rights  which  God  has  given  him,  and  produce  cruelty 
and  heartlessness  in  the  general  intercourse  of  life,  also 
tended  to  degrade  the  female  sex.  In  the  earlier  age 
of  the  republic,  when  the  people  were  poor,  and  life  was 
simple  and  primitive,  and  heroism  and  patriotism  were 
characteristic,  woman  was  comparatively  virtuous  and  re 
spected.  She  asserted  her  natural  equality,  and  led  a 
life  of  domestic  tranquillity,  employed  upon  the  training 
of  her  children,  and  inspiring  her  husband  to  noble  deeds. 
But,  under  the  emperors,  these  virtues  had  fled.  Woman 
was  miserably  educated,  being  taught  by  a  slave,  or  some 
Greek  chambermaid,  accustomed  to  ribald  conversation, 

such  a  punishment  ?    What  witness  can  you  present  ?     Who  gave  the  informa 
tion?    Listen!  Idiot!     So  a  slave  is  a  man  then!     Granted  he  has  done  noth 
ing.    I  will  it.     I  insist  upon  it.    Let  my  will  stand  instead  of  reason."    Read 
Martial,  Juvenal,  and  Plautus. 
27 


418    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Umpire.    [CHAP.  x. 

and  fed  with  idle  tales  and  silly  superstitions.  She  was 
regarded  as  more  vicious  in  natural  inclination  than  man, 
and  was  chiefly  valued  for  household  labors.  She  was 
reduced  to  dependence ;  she  saw  but  little  of  her  brothers 
or  relatives  ;  she  was  confined  to  her  home  as  if  it  were  a 
prison  ;  she  was  guarded  by  eunuchs  and  female  slaves  ;  she 
was  given  in  marriage  without  her  consent ;  she  could  be 
easily  divorced  ;  she  was  valued  only  as  a  domestic  servant, 
or  as  an  animal  to  prevent  the  extinction  of  families  ;  she 
was  regarded  as  the  inferior  of  her  husband,  to  whom  she 
was  a  victim,  a  toy,  or  a  slave.  Love  after  marriage  was  not 
frequent,  since  she  did  not  shine  in  the  virtues  by  which 
love  is  kept  alive.  She  became  timorous,  or  frivolous, 
without  dignity  or  public  esteem.  Her  happiness  was  in 
extravagant  attire,  in  elaborate  hair-dressings,  in  rings 
and  bracelets,  in  a  retinue  of  servants,  in  gilded  apart 
ments,  in  luxurious  couches,  in  voluptuous  dances,  in  ex 
citing  banquets,  in  demoralizing  spectacles,  in  frivolous 
gossip,  in  inglorious  idleness.  If  virtuous,  it  was  not  so 
much  from  principle  as  from  fear.  Hence  she  resorted  to 
all  sorts  of  arts  to  deceive  her  husband.  Her  genius  was 
sharpened  by  perpetual  devices,  and  cunning  was  her  great 
resource.  She  cultivated  no  lofty  friendships  ;  she  en- 
Degradation  gaged  in  no  philanthropic  mission  ;  she  cherished 
of  woman,  no  ennobling  sentiments  ;  she  kindled  no  chival 
rous  admiration.  Her  amusements  were  frivolous,  her 
taste  vitiated,  her  education  neglected,  her  rights  violated, 
her  sympathy  despised,  her  aspirations  scorned.  And  here 
I  do  not  allude  to  great  and  infamous  examples  which  his 
tory  has  handed  down  in  the  sober  pages  of  Suetonius  and 
Tacitus,  or  that  unblushing  depravity  which  stands  out  in 
the  bitter  satires  of  the  times.  I  speak  not  of  the  adultery, 
the  poisoning,  the  infanticide,  the  debauchery,  the  cruelty 
of  which  history  accuses  the  Messalinas  and  Agrippinas  of 
imperial  Rome.  I  allude  not  to  the  orgies  of  the  Palatine 
Hill,  or  the  abominations  which  are  inferred  from  the  paint- 


CHAP,  x.]  Women. 

ings  of  Pompeii.  But  there  was  a  general  frivolity  and 
extravagance  among  women  which  rendered  marriage  inex 
pedient,  unless  large  dowries  were  brought  to  the  husband. 
Numerous  were  the  efforts  of  emperors  to  promote  honora 
ble  marriages,  but  the  relation  was  shunned.  Courtesans 
usurped  the  privilege  of  wives,  and  with  unblushing  effront 
ery.  A  man  was  derided  who  contemplated  matrimony, 
for  there  was  but  little  confidence  in  female  virtue  or  ca 
pacity.  And  woman  lost  all  her  fascination  when  age  had 
destroyed  her  beauty.  Even  her  very  virtues  were  dis 
tasteful  to  her  self-indulgent  husband.  And  whenever 
she  gained  the  ascendency  by  her  charms,  she  was  tyran 
nical.  Her  relations  incited  her  to  despoil  her  husband. 
She  lived  amid  incessant  broils.  She  had  no  care  for  the 
future,  and  exceeded  men  in  prodigality.  "  The  govern 
ment  of  her  house  is  no  more  merciful,"  says  Juvenal, 
"  than  the  court  of  a  Sicilian  tyrant."  In  order  to  render 
herself  attractive,  she  exhausted  all  the  arts  of  cosmetics 
and  elaborate  hair-dressing.  She  delighted  in  magical  in 
cantations  and  love-potions.  In  the  bitter  satire  of  Juvenal, 
we  get  an  impression  most  melancholy  and  loathsome  :  — 

"  'T  were  long  to  tell  what  philters  they  provide, 
What  drugs  to  set  a  son-in-law  aside. 
Women,  in  judgment  weak,  in  feeling  strong, 
By  every  gust  of  passion  borne  along. 
To  a  fond  spouse  a  wife  no  mercy  shows ; 
Though  warmed  with  equal  fires,  she  mocks  his  woes, 
And  triumphs  in  his  spoils;  her  wayward  will 
Defeats  his  bliss  and  turns  his  good  to  ill. 
Women  support  the  bar ;  they  love  the  law, 
And  raise  litigious  questions  for  a  straw ; 
Nay,  more,  they  fence !  who  has  not  marked  their  oil, 
Their  purple  rigs,  for  this  preposterous  toil ! 
A  woman  stops  at  nothing,  when  she  wears 
Rich  emeralds  round  her  neck,  and  in  her  ears 
Pearls  of  enormous  size;  these  justify 
Her  faults,  and  make  all  lawful  in  her  eye. 
More  shame  to  Rome !  in  every  street  are  found 
The  essenced  Lypanti,  with  roses  crowned, 
The  gay  Miletan,  and  the  Tarentine, 
Lewd,  petulant,  and  reeling  ripe  with  wine!  " 


420    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

In  the  sixth  satire  of  Juvenal  is  found  the  most  severe 
Condition  of  delineation  of  woman  that  ever  mortal  penned, 
woman.  Doubtless  he  is  libellous  and  extravagant,  for 
only  infamous  women  can  stoop  to  such  arts  and  degrada 
tions,  which  would  seem  to  be  common  in  his  time.  But, 
with  all  his  exaggeration,  we  are  forced  to  feel  that  but 
few  women,  even  in  the  highest  class,  except  those  con 
verted  to  Christianity,  showed  the  virtues  of  a  Lucretia, 
a  Volumnia,  a  Cornelia,  or  an  Octavia.  There  was  but  a 
universal  corruption.  The  great  virtues  of  a  Perpetua,  a 
Felicitas,  an  Agnes,  a  Paula,  a  Blessilla,  a  Fabiolu,  would 
have  adorned  any  civilization.  But  the  great  mass  were, 
what  they  were  in  Greece,  even  in  the  days  of  Pericles, 
what  they  have  ever  been  under  the  influence  of  Pagan 
ism,  what  they  ever  will  be  without  Christianity  to  guide 
them,  victims  or  slaves  of  man,  revenging  themselves  by 
squandering  his  wealth,  stealing  his  secrets,  betraying  his 
interests,  and  deserting  his  home. 

Another  essential  but  demoralizing  feature  of  Roman 
Games  and  society,  were  the  games  and  festivals  and  gladia 
torial  shows,  which  accustomed  the  people  to  un 
natural  excitements,  and  familiarity  with  cruelty  and  suf 
fering.  They  made  all  ordinary  pleasures  insipid.  They 
ended  in  making  homicide  an  institution.  The  butcheries 
of  the  amphitheatre  exerted  a  fascination  which  diverted 
the  mind  from  literature,  art,  and  the  enjoyments  of  do 
mestic  life.  Very  early  it  was  the  favorite  sport  of  the 
Romans.  Marcus  and  Decimus  Brutus  employed  gladia 
tors  in  celebrating  the  obsequies  of  their  fathers,  nearly 
three  centuries  before  Christ.  "  The  wealth  and  ingenuity 
of  the  aristocracy  were  taxed  to  the  utmost,  to  content  the 
populace  and  provide  food  for  the  indiscriminate  slaughter 
of  the  circus,  where  brute  fought  with  brute,  and  man  again 
with  man,  or  where  the  skill  and  weapons  of  the  latter 
were  matched  against  the  strength  and  ferocity  of  the 
first."  Pompey  let  loose  six  hundred  lions  in  the  arena 


CHAP,  x.]  Games  and  Festivals.  421 

in  one  day.  Augustus  delighted  the  people  with  four  hun 
dred  and  twenty  panthers.  The  games  of  Trajan  lasted 
one  hundred  and  twenty  days,  when  ten  thousand  gladia 
tors  fought,  and  ten  thousand  beasts  were  slain.  Titus 
slaughtered  five  thousand  animals  at  a  time.  Twenty  ele 
phants  contended,  according  to  Pliny,  against  a  band  of 
six  hundred  captives.  Probus  reserved  six  hundred  glad 
iators  for  one  of  his  festivals,  and  massacred,  on  another, 
two  hundred  lions,  twenty  leopards,  and  three  hundred 
bears.  Gordian  let  loose  three  hundred  African  hyenas  and 
ten  Indian  tigers  in  the  arena.  Every  corner  of  the  earth 
was  ransacked  for  these  wild  animals,  which  were  so  highly 
valued  that,  in  the  time  of  Theodosius,  it  was  forbidden  by 
law  to  destroy  a  Getulian  lion.  No  one  can  contemplate 
the  statue  of  the  Dying  Gladiator  which  now  ornaments  the 
capitol  at  Rome,  without  emotions  of  pity  and  admiration. 
If  a  marble  statue  can  thus  move  us,  what  was  it  to  see 
the  Christian  gladiators  contending  with  the  fierce  lions  of 
Africa.  The  "  Christians  to  the  lions,"  was  the  watch 
word  of  the  brutal  populace.  What  a  sight  was  the  old 
amphitheatre  of  Titus,  five  hundred  and  sixty  feet  long, 
and  four  hundred  and  seventy  feet  wide,  built  on  eighty 
arches,  and  rising  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  into  the  air, 
with  its  four  successive  orders  of  architecture,  and  inclosing 
its  eighty  thousand  seated  spectators,  arranged  according 
to  rank,  from  the  emperor  to  the  lowest  of  the  populace, 
all  seated  on  marble  benches,  covered  with  cushions,  and 
protected  from  the  sun  and  rain  by  ample  canopies !  What 
an  excitement  when  men  strove  not  with  wild  beasts  alone, 
but  with  one  another,  and  when  all  that  human  skill  and 
strength,  increased  by  elaborate  treatment,  and  taxed  to 
the  uttermost,  were  put  forth  in  the  needless  homicide,  and 
until  the  thirsty  soil  was  wet  and  matted  with  human  gore  ! 
Familiarity  with  such  sights  must  have  hardened  the  heart 
and  rendered  the  mind  insensible  to  refined  pleasures. 
What  theatres  are  to  the  French,  what  bull-fights  are  to 


422    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

the  Spaniards,  what  horse-races  are  to  the  English,  these 
gladiatorial  shows  were  to  the  ancient  Romans.  The  ruins 
of  hundreds  of  amphitheatres  attest  the  universality  of  the 
custom,  not  in  Rome  alone,  but  in  the  provinces. 

The  sports   of  the   circus   took  place  from  the  earliest 
periods.     The  Circus  Maximal  was  capable  of 

The  circus.  .    .  i          i        i  i      •  i  i 

containing  two  hundred  and  sixty  thousand,  as 
estimated  by  Pliny.  It  was  appropriated  for  horse  and 
chariot  races.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  Romans  for  races 
exceeded  all  bounds.  Lists  of  the  horses,  with  their  names 
and  colors,  and  those  of  drivers,  were  handed  about,  and 
heavy  bets  made  on  each  faction.  The  games  commenced 
with  a  grand  procession,  in  which  all  persons  of  distinc 
tion,  and  those  who  were  to  exhibit,  took  part.  The  stat 
ues  of  the  gods  formed  a  conspicuous  feature  in  the  show, 
and  were  carried  on  the  shoulders  as  saints  are  carried  in 
modern  processions.  The  chariots  were  often  drawn  by 
eight  horses,  and  four  generally  started  in  the  race. 

The  theatre  was  also  a  great  place  of  resort.  Scaurus 
built  one  capable  of  seating  eighty  thousand  spectators. 
That  of  Pompey,  near  the  Circus  Maximus,  could  contain 
forty  thousand.  But  the  theatre  had  not  the  same  attrac 
tion  to  the  Romans  that  it  had  to  the  Greeks.  They  pre 
ferred  scenes  of  pomp  and  splendor. 

No  people  probably  abandoned  themselves  to  pleasures 
The  circus  more  universally  than  the  Romans,  after  war 
and  theatre.  ceasec]  to  ^e  t],e  master  passion.  All  classes  alike 
pursued  them  with  restless  eagerness.  Amusements  were 
the  fashion  and  the  business  of  life.  At  the  theatre,  at  the 
great  gladiatorial  shows,  at  the  chariot  races,  senators  and 
emperors  and  generals  were  always  present  in  conspicuous 
and  reserved  seats  of  honor ;  behind  them  were  the  ordi 
nary  citizens,  and  in  the  rear  of  these,  the  people  fed  at  the 
public  expense.  The  Circus  Maximus,  the  Theatre  of 
Pompey,  the  Amphitheatre  of  Titus,  would  collectively 
accommodate  over  four  hundred  thousand  spectators.  We 


CHAP,  x.]  Baths.  423 

may  presume  that  over  five  hundred  thousand  people  were 
in  the  habit  of  constant  attendance  on  these  demoralizing 
sports.  And  the  fashion  spread  throughout  all  the  great 
cities  of  the  empire,  so  that  there  was  scarcely  a  city  of 
twenty  thousand  people  which  had  not  its  theatres,  or  am 
phitheatres,  or  circus.  The  enthusiasm  of  the  Romans  for 
the  circus  exceeded  all  bounds.  And  when  we  remember 
the  heavy  bets  on  favorite  horses,  and  the  universal  passion 
for  gambling  in  every  shape,  we  can  form  some  idea  of  the 
effect  of  these  amusements  on  the  common  mind,  destroy 
ing  the  taste  for  home  pleasures,  and  for  all  that  was  intel 
lectual  and  simple.  What  are  we  to  think  of  a  state  of 
society,  where  all  classes  had  leisure  for  these  sports. 
Habits  of  industry  were  destroyed,  and  all  respect  for  em 
ployments  which  required  labor.  The  rich  were  supported 
by  the  contributions  from  the  provinces,  since  they  were 
the  great  proprietors  of  conquered  lands.  The  poor  had 
no  solicitude  for  a  living,  for  they  were  supported  at  the 
public  expense.  They,  therefore,  gave  themselves  up  to 
pleasure.  Even  the  baths,  designed  for  sanatory  purposes, 
became  places  of  resort  and  idleness,  and  ultimately  of 
improper  intercourse.  When  the  thermae  came  fully  into 
public  use,  not  only  did  men  bathe  together  in  numbers,  but 
even  men  and  women  promiscuously  in  the  same  baths. 
In  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar,  we  find  no  less  a  personage 
than  the  mother  of  Augustus  making  use  of  the  public 
establishments ;  and  in  process  of  time  the  emperors  them 
selves  bathed  in  public  with  the  meanest  of  their  subjects. 
The  baths  in  the  time  of  Alexander  Severus 
were  not  only  kept  open  from  sunrise  to  sunset, 
but  even  the  whole  night.  The  luxurious  classes  almost 
lived  in  the  baths.  Commodus  took  his  meals  in  the  bath. 
Gordian  bathed  seven  times  in  the  day,  and  Gallienus  as 
often.  They  bathed  before  they  took  their  meals,  and 
after  meals  to  provoke  a  new  appetite.  They  did  not  con 
tent  themselves  with  a  single  bath,  but  went  through  a 


424    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  X. 

course  of  baths  in  succession,  in  which  the  agency  of  air 
as  well  as  water  was  applied.  And  the  bathers  were  at 
tended  by  an  army  of  slaves  given  over  to  every  sort  of 
roguery  arid  theft.  "Ofurum  optume  balmariorum,"  ex 
claims  Catullus,  in  disgust  and  indignation.  Nor  was 
water  alone  used.  The  common  people  made  use  of 
scented  oils  to  anoint  their  persons,  and  perfumed  the 
water  itself  with  the  most  precious  perfumes.  Bodily 
health  and  cleanliness  were  only  secondary  considerations ; 
voluptuous  pleasure  was  the  main  object.  The  ruins  of  the 
baths  of  Titus,  Caracalla,  and  Diocletian,  in  Rome,  show 
that  they  were  decorated  with  prodigal  magnificence,  and 
with  every  thing  that  could  excite  the  passions  —  pictures, 
statues,  ornaments,  and  mirrors.  Says  Seneca,  Epistle 
Ixxxvi.,  ^Nisi  parietis  magnis  et  preciosis  orbibas  rcfulse- 
runt."  The  baths  were  scenes  of  orgies  consecrated  to 
Bacchus,  and  the  frescoes  on  the  excavated  baths  of  Pom 
peii  still  raise  a  blush  on  the  face  of  every  spectator  who 
visits  them.  I  speak  not  of  the  elaborate  ornaments,  the 
Numidian  marbles,  the  precious  stones,  the  exquisite  sculpt 
ures,  which  formed  part  of  the  decorations  of  the  Roman 
baths,  but  the  demoralizing  pleasures  with  which  they  were 
connected,  and  which  they  tended  to  promote.  The  baths 
became,  according  to  the  ancient  writers,  ultimately  places 
of  excessive  and  degrading  debauchery. 

"  Balnea,  vina,  Venas  corrumpunt  corpora  nostra." 

The  Romans,  originally,  were  not  only  frugal,  but  they 
Dress  and  dressed  with  great  simplicity.  In  process  of 
ornament,  time,  they  became  extravagantly  fond  of  elabo 
rately  ornamented  attire,  particularly  the  women.  They 
wore  a  great  variety  of  rings  and  necklaces  ;  they  dved 
their  hair,  and  resorted  to  expensive  cosmetics  ;  they  wore 
silks  of  various  colors,  magnificently  embroidered.  Pearls 
and  rubies,  for  which  large  estates  had  been  exchanged, 
were  suspended  from  their  ears.  Their  hair  glistened 


CHAP,  x.]  Roman  Banquets.  425 

with  a  net-work  of  golden  thread.  Their  stolse  were  or 
namented  with  purple  bands,  and  fastened  with  diamond 
clasps,  while  their  pallse  trailed  along  the  ground.  Jewels 
were  embroidered  upon  their  sandals,  and  golden  bands, 
pins,  combs,  and  pomades  raised  the  hair  in  a  storied  edi 
fice  upon  the  forehead.  They  reclined  on  luxurious 
couches,  and  rode  in  silver  chariots.  Their  time  was  spent 
in  paying  and  receiving  visits,  at  the  bath,  the  spectacle, 
and  the  banquet.  Tables,  supported  on  ivory  columns, 
displayed  their  costly  plate ;  silver  mirrors  were  hung 
against  the  walls,  and  curious  chests  contained  their  jewels 
and  money.  Bronze  lamps  lighted  their  chambers,  and 
glass  vases,  imitating  precious  stones,  stood  upon  their 
cupboards.  Silken  curtains  were  suspended  over  the 
doors  and  from  the  ceilings,  and  lecticae,  like  palanquins, 
were  borne  through  the  streets  by  slaves,  on  which  re 
clined  the  effeminated  wives  and  daughters  of  the  rich. 
Their  gardens  were  rendered  attractive  by  green-houses, 
flower-beds,  and  every  sort  of  fruit  and  vine. 

But  it  was  at  their  banquets  the  Romans  displayed  the 
greatest  luxury  and  extravagance.  No  people  ever  thought 
more  of  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  And  the  prodigality 
was  seen  not  only  in  the  indulgence  of  the  palate  by 
the  choicest  dainties,  but  in  articles  which  commanded, 
from  their  rarity,  the  highest  prices.  They  not  only  sought 
to  eat  daintily,  but  to  increase  their  capacity  by  unnatural 
means.  The  maxim,  "  11  faut  manger  pour  vivre,  et  non 
pas  vivre  pour  manger"  was  reversed.  At  the  fourth  hour 
they  breakfasted  on  bread,  grapes,  olives,  and  cheese  and 
eggs  ;  at  the  sixth  they  lunched,  still  more  heartily  ;  and 
at  the  ninth  hour  they  dined  ;  and  this  meal,  the  ccena, 
was  the  principal  one,  which  consisted  of  three  parts  :  the 
first  —  the  gmtus  —  was  made  up  of  dishes  to  provoke  an 
appetite,  shell-fish  and  piquant  sauces  ;  the  second  — the 
fercula  —  composed  of  different  courses  ;  and  the  third  — 
the  dessert,  a  mensce  secundce  —  composed  of  fruits  and 


426     Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.    [CHAP.  x. 

pastry.  Fish  were  the  chief  object  of  the  Roman  epicures, 
of  which  the  mul/us,  the  rhombus,  and  the  asellus  were 
the  most  valued.  It  is  recorded  that  a  mullus  (sea  barbel), 
weighing  but  eight  pounds,  sold  for  eight  thousand  ses 
terces.  Oysters,  from  the  Lucrine  Lake,  were  in  great 
demand.  Snails  were  fed  in  ponds  for  the  purpose,  while 
the  villas  of  the  rich  had  their  piscinae  filled  with  fresh  or 
salt-water  fish.  Peacocks  and  pheasants  were  the  most 
highly  esteemed  among  poultry,  although  the  absurdity 
prevailed  of  eating  singing-birds.  Of  quadrupeds,  the 
greatest  favorite  was  the  wild  boar,  the  chief  dish  of  a 
grand  ccena,  and  came  whole  upon  the  table,  and  the  prac 
ticed  gourmand  pretended  to  distinguish  by  the  taste  from 
what  part  of  Italy  it  came.  Dishes,  the  very  names  of 
which  excite  disgust,  were  used  at  fashionable  banquets, 
and  held  in  high  esteem.  Martial  devotes  two  entire  books 
of  his  "  Epigrams  "  to  the  various  dishes  and  ornaments  of 
a  Roman  banquet.  He  refers  to  almost  every  fruit  and 
vegetable  and  meat  that  we  now  use  —  to  cabbages,  leeks, 
turnips,  asparagus,  beans,  beets,  peas,  lettuces,  radishes, 
mushrooms,  truffles,  pulse,  lentils,  among  vegetables  ;  to 
pheasants,  ducks,  doves,  geese,  capons,  pigeons,  partridges, 
peacocks,  Numidian  fowls,  cranes,  woodcocks,  swans,  among 
birds ;  to  mullets,  lampreys,  turbots,  oysters,  prawns, 
chars,  murices,  gudgeons,  pikes,  sturgeons,  among  fish; 
to  raisins,  figs,  quinces,  citrons,  dates,  plums,  olives,  apri 
cots,  among  fruit  ;  to  sauces  and  condiments ;  to  wild 
game,  and  to  twenty  different  kinds  of  wine  ;  on  all  of 
which  he  expatiates  like  an  epicure.  He  speaks  of  the 
presents  made  to  guests  at  feasts,  the  tablets  of  ivory  and 
parchment,  the  dice-boxes,  style-cases,  toothpicks,  golden 
hair-pins,  combs,  pomatum,  parasols,  oil-flasks,  tooth-pow 
der,  balms  and  perfumes,  slippers,  dinner-couches,  citron- 
tables,  antique  vases,  gold-chased  cups,  snow-strainers, 
jeweled  and  crystal  vases,  rings,  spoons,  scarlet  cloaks, 
table-covers,  Cilician  socks,  pillows,  girdles,  aprons,  mat- 


CHAP,  x.]  Roman  Banquets.  427 

tresses,  lyres,  bath-bells,  statues,  masks,  books,  musical 
instruments,  and  other  articles  of  taste,  luxury,  or  neces 
sity.  The  pleasures  of  the  table,  however,  are  ever  upper 
most  in  his  eye,  and  the  luxuries  of  those  whom  he  could 
not  rival,  but  which  he  reprobates :  — 

"  Nor  mullet  delights  thee,  nice  Betic,  nor  thrush ; 
The  hare  with  the  scut,  nor  the  boar  with  the  tusk; 
No  sweet  cakes  or  tablets,  thy  taste  so  absurd, 
Nor  Libya  need  send  thee,  nor  Phasis,  a  bird. 
But  capers  and  onions,  besoaking  in  brine, 
And  brawn  of  a  gammon  scarce  doubtful  are  thine. 
Of  garbage,  or  flitch  of  hoar  tunny,  thou  'rt  vain; 
The  rosin's  thy  joy,  the  Falernian  thy  bane."  1 

He  thus  describes  a  modest  dinner,  to  which  he,  a  poet, 
invites  his  friend  Turanius  :  "  If  you  are  suffer-  Ap0et'S 
ing  from  dread  of  a  melancholy  dinner  at  home, 
or  would  take  a  preparatory  whet,  come  and  feast  with  me. 
You  will  find  no  want  of  Cappadocian  lettuces  and  strong 
leeks.  The  tunny  will  lurk  under  slices  of  egg  ;  a  cauli 
flower  hot  enough  to  burn  your  fingers,  and  which  has  just 
left  the  garden,  will  be  served  fresh  on  a  black  platter  ; 
white  sausages  will  float  on  snow-white  porridge,  and 
the  pale  bean  will  accompany  the  red-streaked  bacon.  In 
the  second  course,  raisins  will  be  set  before  yon,  and  pears 
which  pass  for  Syrian,  and  roasted  chestnuts.  The  wine 
you  will  prove  in  drinking  it.  After  all  this,  excellent 
olives  will  come  to  your  relief,  with  the  hot  vetch  and  the 
tepid  lupine.  The  dinner  is  small,  who  can  deny  it  ?  but 
you  will  not  have  to  invent  falsehoods,  or  hear  them  in 
vented  ;  you  will  recline  at  ease,  and  with  your  own  natu 
ral  look ;  the  host  will  not  read  aloud  a  bulky  volume  of 
his  own  compositions,  nor  will  licentious  girls,  from  shame 
less  Cadiz,  be  there  to  gratify  you  with  wanton  attitudes ; 
but  the  small  reed  pipe  will  be  heard,  and  the  nice  Clau 
dia,  whose  society  you  value  even  more  than  mine."  2 

How  different  this  poet's  dinner,  a  table  spread  without 
luxury,  and   enlivened  by  wit  and   friendship,  from  that 
i  Martial,  b.  iii.  p.  77.  2  Ibid.  b.  v.  p.  78. 


428    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.     [CHAP.  x. 

which  Petronius  describes  of  a  rich  freedman,  which  was 
more  after  the  fashion  of  the  vulgar  and  luxurious  gour 
mands  of  his  day. 

Next  to  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  the  passion  for  ex 
pensive  furniture  seemed  to  be  the  prevailing  folly.  We 
read  of  couches  gemmed  with  tortoise-shell,  and  tables  of 
Expensive  citron-wood  from  Africa.  Silver  and  gold  vases, 
furniture.  Tables,  also,  of  Mauritanian  marble,  supported 
on  pedestals  of  Lybian  ivory  ;  cups  of  crystal  ;  all 
sorts  of  silver  plate,  the  masterpieces  of  Myro,  and  the 
handiwork  of  Praxiteles,  and  the  engravings  of  Phidias. 
Gold  services  adorned  the  sideboard.  Couches  were  cov 
ered  with  purple  silks.  Chairs  were  elaborately  carved ; 
costly  mirrors  hung  against  the  walls,  and  bronze  lamps 
were  suspended  from  the  painted  ceilings.  But  it  was  not 
always  the  most  beautiful  articles  which  were  most  prized, 
but  those  which  were  procured  with  the  greatest  difficulty, 
or  brought  from  the  remotest  provinces.  That  which  cost 
most  received  uniformly  the  greatest  admiration. 

If  it  were  possible  to  allude  to  an  evil  more  revolting 
Money  than  the  sports  of  the  amphitheatre,  or  the  ex 
travagant  luxuries  of  the  table,  I  would  say  that 
the  universal  abandonment  to  money-making,  for  the  en 
joyment  of  the  factitious  pleasures  it  purchased,  was  even 
still  more  melancholy,  since  it  struck  deeper  into  the  foun 
dations  which  supported  society.  The  leading  spring  of  life 
was  money.  Boys  were  bred  from  early  youth  to  all  the 
mysteries  of  unscrupulous  gains.  Usury  was  practiced  to 
such  an  incredible  extent  that  the  interest  on  loans,  in 
some  instances  equaled,  in  a  few  months,  the  whole  capi 
tal.  This  was  the  more  aristocratic  mode  of  making 
money,  which  not  even  senators  disdained.  The  pages  of 
the  poets  show  how  profoundly  money  was  prized,  and  how 
miserable  were  people  without  it.  Rich  old  bachelors, 
without  heirs,  were  held  in  the  supremest  honor.  Money 
was  the  first  object  in  all  matrimonial  alliances,  and  pro- 


CHAP,  x.]  Low  Tone  of  Society.  429 

vided  that  women  were  only  wealthy,  neither  bridegroom 
nor  parent  was  fastidious  as  to  age,  or  deformity,  or  mean 
ness  of  family,  or  vulgarity  of  person.  The  needy  descend 
ants  of  the  old  Patricians  yoked  themselves  with  fortunate 
Plebeians,  and  the  blooming  maidens  of  a  comfortable  ob 
scurity  sold  themselves,  without  shame  or  reluctance,  to 
the  bloated  sensualists  who  could  give  them  what  they  su 
premely  valued,  chariots  and  diamonds.  It  was  useless  to 
appeal  to  elevated  sentiments  when  happiness  consisted  in 
an  outside,  factitious  life.  The  giddy  women,  in  love  with 
ornaments  and  dress,  and  the  godless  men,  seeking  what 
they  should  eat,  could  only  be  satisfied  with  what  pur 
chased  their  pleasures.  The  haughtiest  aristocracy  ever 
known  on  earth,  tracing  their  lineage  to  the  times  of  Cato, 
and  boasting  of  their  descent  from  the  Scipios  and  the 
Pompeys,  accustomed  themselves  at  last  to  regard  money 
as  the  only  test  of  their  own  social  position.  There  was  no 
high  social  position  disconnected  with  fortune.  Even  poets 
and  philosophers  were  neglected,  and  gladiators  and  buf 
foons  preferred  before  them.  The  great  Augustine  found 
himself  utterly  neglected  at  Rome,  because  he  was  de 
pendent  on  his  pupils,  and  his  pupils  were  mean  enough 
to  run  away  without  paying.  Literature  languished  and 
died,  since  it  brought  neither  honor  nor  emolument.  No 
dignitary  was  respected  for  his  office,  only  for  his  gains  ;  nor 
was  any  office  prized  which  did  not  bring  rich  emoluments. 
And  corruption  was  so  universal,  that  an  official  in  an  im 
portant  post  was  sure  of  making  a  fortune  in  a  short  time. 
With  such  an  idolatry  of  money,  all  trades  and  professions 
fell  into  disrepute  which  were  not  favorable  to  its  accumu 
lation,  while  those  who  administered  to  the  pleasures  of 
a  rich  man  were  held  in  honor.  Cooks,  buffoons,  and 
dancers,  received  the  consideration  which  artists  and  phi 
losophers  enjoyed  at  Athens  in  the  days  of  Pericles.  But 
artists  and  scholars  were  very  few  indeed  in  the  more  de 
generate  days  of  the  empire.  Nor  would  they  have  had 


430    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.    [CHAP.  x. 

influence.  The  wit  of  a  Petronius,  the  ridicule  of  a 
Martial,  the  bitter  sarcasm  of  a  Juvenal,  were  lost  on  a 
people  abandoned  to  frivolous  gossip  and  demoralizing  ex 
cesses.  The  haughty  scorn  with  which  a  sensual  beauty, 
living  on  the  smiles  and  purse  of  a  fortunate  glutton,  would 
pass,  in  her  gilded  chariot,  some  of  the  impoverished  de 
scendants  of  the  great  Camillus,  might  have  provoked  a 
smile,  had  any  one  been  found,  even  a  neglected  poet,  to 
have  given  them  countenance  and  sympathy.  But,  alas ! 
every  body  worshiped  the  shrine  of  Mammon.  Every  body 
was  valued  for  what  he  had,  rather  than  for  what  he  was  ; 
and  life  was  prized,  not  for  those  pleasures  which  are  cheap 
and  free  as  heaven,  not  for  quiet  tastes  and  rich  affections 
and  generous  sympathies  and  intellectual  genius,  —  the 
glorious  certitudes  of  love,  esteem,  and  friendship,  which, 
44  be  they  what  they  may,  are  yet  the  fountain-life  of  all  our 
day,"  —  but  for  the  gratification  of  depraved  and  expensive 
tastes ;  those  short-lived  enjoyments  which  ended  with 
the  decay  of  appetite,  and  the  ennui  of  realized  expecta 
tion,  —  all  of  the  earth,  earthy  ;  making  a  wreck  of  the 
divine  image  which  was  made  for  God  and  heaven,  and 
preparing  the  way  for  a  most  fearful  retribution,  and  pro 
ducing,  on  contemplative  minds,  a  sadness  allied  with  de 
spair,  driving  them  to  caves  and  solitudes,  and  making  death 
the  relief  from  sorrow.  Cynicism,  scorn,  unbelief,  and 
disgusting  coarseness  and  vulgarity,  made  grand  sentiments 
an  idle  dream.  The  fourteenth  satire  of  Juvenal  is  di- 
reted  mainly  to  the  universal  passion  for  gain,  and  the 
demoralizing  vices  it  brings  in  its  train,  which  made  Rome 
a  Pandemonium  and  a  Vanity  Fair.  "  Flatterers,"  says 
he,  "  consider  misers  as  men  of  happy  minds,  since  they 
admire  wealth  supremely,  and  think  no  instance  can  be 
found  of  a  poor  man  that  is  also  happy  ;  and  therefore 
they  exhort  their  sons  to  apply  themselves  to  the  arts  of 
money  making.  Come,  boys  ;  sack  the  Numidian  hovels 
and  the  forts  of  Brigantes,  that  your  sixtieth  year  may  be- 


CHAP,  x.]  Excessive  Selfishness.  431 

stow  on  you  the  eagle  which  will  make  you  rich.  Or,  if 
you  shrink  from  the  long-protracted  labors  of  the  camp, 
then  bring  something  that  you  may  profitably  dispose  of, 
and  never  let  disgust  of  trade  enter  your  head,  nor  think 
that  any  difference  can  be  drawn  between  perfumes  and 
leather.  The  smell  of  gain  is  good  from  any  thing  what 
ever.  No  one  asks  you  how  you  get  money,  but  have  it 
you  must."  The  poet  Persius  paints  this  passion  for  gold, 
displayed  in  the  customs  of  the  day,  in  a  strain  at  once  lofty 
and  mournful,  bitter  and  satirical : 1  — 

"  0  that  I  could  my  rich  old  uncle  see 
In  funeral  pomp !     O  that  some  deity 
To  pots  of  buried  gold  would  guide  my  share ! 
0  that  my  ward,  whom  I  succeed  as  heir, 
Were  once  at  rest !     Poor  child !  he  lies  in  pain, 
And  death  to  him  must  be  accounted  gain. 
By  will  thrice  has  Nerius  swelled  his  store, 
And  now  is  he  a  widower  once  more. 
0  groveling  souls,  and  void  of  things  divine ! 
Why  bring  our  passions  to  the  immortal's  shrine?  " 

The  old  Greek  philosophers  gloried  in  their  poverty ;  but 
poverty  was  the  greatest  reproach  to  a  Roman.  "  In  exact 
proportion  to  the  sum  of  money  a  man  keeps  in  his  chest," 
says  Juvenal,2  "  is  the  credit  given  to  his  oath.  And  the 
first  question  ever  asked  of  a  man  is  in  reference  to  his 
income,  rather  than  his  character.  How  many  slaves  does 
he  keep  ?  How  many  acres  does  he  own  ?  What  dishes 
are  his  table  spread  with  ?  —  these  are  the  universal  in 
quiries.  Poverty,  bitter  though  it  be,  has  no  sharper  sting 
than  this,  —  that  it  makes  them  ridiculous.  Who  was  ever 
allowed  at  Rome  to  become  a  son-in-law  if  his  estate  was 
inferior,  and  not  a  match  for  the  portion  of  the  young  lady  ? 
What  poor  man's  name  appears  in  any  will  ?  When  is 
one  summoned  to  a  consultation  even  by  an  sedile  ?  " 

"  Long,  long  ago,  in  one  despairing  band, 
The  poor,  self-exiled,  should  have  left  the  land." 

And  with  this  reproach  of  poverty  there  was  no  means 

1  Satire  ii.  *  Satire  iii. 


±32    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.    [CHAP.  X. 

to  escape  from  it.  Nor  was  there  alleviation.  A  man  was 
regarded  as  a  fool  who  gave  any  thing  except  to  the  rich. 
Charity  and  benevolence  were  unknown  virtues.  The 
sick  and  the  miserable  were  left  to  die  unlamented  and  un 
known.  Prosperity  and  success,  no  matter  by  what  means 
they  were  purchased,  secured  reverence  and  influence. 

Indeed,  the  Romans  were  a  worldly,  selfish,  Epicurean 
people,  for  whom  we  can  feel  but  little  admiration  in  any 
age  of  the  republic.  They  never  were  finely  moulded. 
They  had  no  sentiment,  imless  in  the  earlier  ages,  it  took 
the  form  of  glory  and  patriotism.  In  their  prosperity,  they 
were  proud  and  scornful.  In  adversity,  they  buried  them 
selves  in  low  excesses.  They  were  not  easily  moved  by 
softening  influences.  They  had  no  lofty  idealism,  like  the 
Greeks ;  nor  were  they  even  social,  as  they  were.  They 
were  disgustingly  practical.  Cui  bono  ?  —  "  who  shall  show 
us  any  good  ?  " —  this  was  their  by-word,  this  the  sole  prin 
ciple  of  their  existence.  They  were  jealous  of  their  dig 
nity,  and  carried  away  by  pomps  and  show.  They  were 
fond  of  etiquette  and  ceremony,  and  were  conventional  in 
all  their  habits.  They  had  very  little  true  intellectual  in 
dependence,  and  were  slaves  of  fashion  as  they  were  of 
ceremony  and  dress.  They  were  inordinately  greedy  of 
social  position  and  of  social  distinctions.  They  loved  titles 
and  surnames  and  inequalities  of  rank.  They  plumed 
themselves  on  taking  a  common-sense  view  of  life,  disdain 
ing  all  lofty  standards.  They  were  dazzled  by  an  outside 
life,  and  cared  but  little  for  the  great  certitudes  on  which 
real  dignity  and  happiness  rest.  They  had  no  conception 
of  philanthropy.  They  lived  for  themselves.  Nor  had 
they  veneration  for  ideal  worth  or  beauty  or  abstract 
truth.  They  were  reserved  and  reticent  and  haughty  in 
social  life.  They  were  superstitious,  and  believed  in  dreams 
and  omens  and  talismans.  They  were  hospitable  to  their 
friends,  but  chiefly  to  display  their  wealth  and  pomp. 
They  were  coarse  and  indecent  in  banquets.  They  loved 


CHAP,  x.]  Roman  Character. 

money  supremely,  but  squandered  it  recklessly  to  gratify 
vanity.  They  had  no  high  conceptions  of  art.  They  were 
copyists  of  the  Greeks,  and  never  produced  any  thing  orig 
inal  but  jurisprudence.  They  did  not  even  add  to  the  arts 
and  sciences,  which  they  applied  to  practical  purposes. 
Their  literature  never  produced  a  sentimentalist ;  their 
philosophy  never  soared  into  idealism  ;  their  art  never 
ventured  upon  new  creations.  Their  supreme  ambition 
was  to  rule,  and  to  rule  despotically.  They  gloried  in 
slavery,  and  degraded  women  and  trod  upon  the  defense 
less.  They  had  no  pity,  no  gentleness,  no  delicacy  of  feel 
ing.  They  could  not  comprehend  a  disinterested  action. 
They  lived  to  eat  and  drink,  and  wear  robes  of  purple,  and 
ride  in  chariots  of  silver,  and  receive  greetings  in  the 
market-place,  and  be  attended  by  an  army  of  sycophants, 
flatterers,  and  slaves.  What  was  elevated  and  what  was 
pure  were  laughed  at  as  unreal,  as  dreamy,  as  transcen 
dental.  All  science  was  directed  to  utilities,  and  utilities 
were  wines,  rare  fishes  and  birds,  carpets,  silks,  cooking, 
palaces,  chariots,  horses,  pomps.  Their  supreme  idea  was 
conquest,  dominion  over  man,  over  beast,  over  seas,  over 
nature  —  all  with  a  view  of  becoming  rich,  comfortable, 
honorable.  This  was  their  Utopia.  Epicurus  was  their 
god.  Sensualism  was  the  convertible  term  for  their  utili 
ties,  and  pervaded  their  literature,  their  social  life,  and 
their  public  efforts ;  extinguishing  poetry,  friendship,  affec 
tions,  genius,  self-sacrifice,  lofty  sentiments  —  the  real  util 
ities  which  make  up  our  higher  life,  and  fit  man  for  an 
ever-expanding  felicity.  Practically,  they  were  atheists  — 
unbelievers  of  what  is  fixed  and  immutable  in  the  soul, 
and  glorious  in  the  soul's  aspirations.  They  had  will  and 
passion,  sagacity  and  the  power  to  rule,  by  which  they 
became  aggrandized  ;  but  they  were  wanting  in  those  ele 
ments  and  virtues  which  endear  their  memory  to  mankind. 
They  were  both  tyrants  and  sensualists ;  fitted  to  make 
conquests,  unfitted  to  enjoy  them.  In  an  important  sense, 

28 


434    Internal  Condition  of  the  Roman  Empire.    [CHAP.  x. 

they  were  great  civilizers,  but  their  civilization  pertained 
to  material  life.  They  worshiped  the  god  of  the  sense, 
rather  than  the  god  of  the  reason  ;  and,  compared  with 
the  Greeks,  bequeathed  but  little  to  our  times  which  we 
value,  except  laws  and  maxims  of  government,  and  ideas 
of  centralized  power. 

Such  was  imperial  Rome,  in  all  the  internal  relations  of 
life,  and  amid  all  the  trophies  and  praises  which  resulted 
from  universal  conquest.  I  cannot  understand  the  enthu 
siasm  of  Gibbon  for  such  a  people,  or  for  such  an  empire, 
—  a  grinding  and  resistless  imperial  despotism,  a  sensual 
and  proud  aristocracy,  a  debased  and  ignorant  populace, 
disproportionate  fortunes,  slavery  flourishing  to  a  state  un 
precedented  in  the  world's  history,  women  the  victims  and 
the  toys  of  men,  lax  sentiments  of  public  morality,  a  whole 
people  given  over  to  demoralizing  sports  and  spectacles, 
pleasure  the  master  passion  of  the  people,  money  the  main 
spring  of  society,  all  the  vices  which  lead  to  violence  and 
prepare  the  way  for  the  total  eclipse  of  the  glory  of  man. 
What  was  a  cultivated  face  of  nature,  or  palaces,  or  pomps, 
or  a  splendid  material  civilization,  or  great  armies,  or  a 
numerous  population,  or  the  triumph  of  energy  and  skill, 
when  the  moral  health  was  completely  undermined  ?  The 
external  grandeur  was  nothing  amid  so  much  vice  and 
wickedness  and  wretchedness.  A  world,  therefore,  as  fair 
and  glorious  as  our  own,  must  needs  crumble  away.  There 
were  no  proper  conservative  forces.  The  poison  had  de 
scended  to  the  extremities  of  the  social  system.  A  corrupt 
body  must  die  when  vitality  had  fled.  The  soul  was  gone. 
Principle,  patriotism,  virtue,  had  all  passed  away.  The 
barbarians  were  advancing  to  conquer  and  desolate.  There 
was  no  power  to  resist  them,  but  enervated  and  timid 
legions,  with  the  accumulated  vices  of  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  which  they  had  been  learning  for  four  hundred 
years.  Society  must  needs  resolve  itself  into  its  original 
elements  when  men  would  not  make  sacrifices,  and  so  few 
belonged  to  their  country.  The  machine  was  sure  to  break 


CHAP,  x.]  Roman  Character.  435 

up  at  the  first  great  shock.  No  state  could  stand  with 
such  an  accumulation  of  wrongs,  with  such  complicated  and 
fatal  diseases  eating  out  the  vitals  of  the  empire.  The 
house  was  built  upon  the  sands.  The  army  may  have 
rallied  under  able  generals,  in  view  of  the  approaching 
catastrophe  ;  philosophy  may  have  gilded  the  days  of  a  few 
indignant  citizens  ;  good  emperors  may  have  attempted  to 
raise  barriers  against  corruption  ;  and  even  Christianity 
may  have  converted  by  thousands  :  still  nothing,  ac 
cording  to  natural  laws,  could  save  the  empire.  It  was 
doomed.  Retributive  justice  must  march  on  in  its  majestic 
course.  The  empire  had  accomplished  its  mission.  The 
time  came  for  it  to  die.  The  Sibylline  oracle  must  needs 
be  fulfilled :  "  O  haughty  Rome,  the  divine  chastisement 
shall  come  upon  thee ;  the  fire  shall  consume  thee  ;  thy 
wealth  shall  perish ;  foxes  and  wolves  shall  dwell  among 
thy  ruins :  and  then  what  land  that  thou  hast  enslaved 
shall  be  thy  ally,  and  which  of  thy  gods  shall  save  thee  ? 
for  there  shall  be  confusion  over  the  face  of  the  whole 
earth,  and  the  fall  of  cities  shall  come."  1 

REFERENCES. — Mr.  Merivale  has  written  most  fully  of  modern 
writers  on  the  condition  of  the  empire.  Gibbon  has  occasional  para 
graphs  which  show  the  condition  of  Roman  society.  Lyman's  Life  of 
the  Emperors  should  be  read,  and  also  DeQuincy's  Lives  of  the  Csesars. 
See,  also,  Niebuhr,  Arnold,  and  Mommsen,  though  these  writers  have 
chiefly  confined  themselves  to  republican  Rome.  But,  if  one  would 
get  the  truest  and  most  vivid  description,  he  must  read  the  Roman 
poets,  especially  Juvenal  and  Martial.  The  work  of  Petronius  is  too 
indecent  to  be  read.  Ammianus  Marcellinus  gives  us  some  striking 
pictures  of  the  latter  Romans.  Suetonius,  in  his  Lives  of  the  Caesars, 
furnishes  many  facts.  Becker's  Gallus  is  a  fine  description  of  Roman 
habits  and  customs.  Smith's  Dictionary  of  Antiquities  should  be  con 
sulted,  as  it  is  a  great  thesaurus  of  important  facts.  Lucian  does  not 
describe  Roman  manners,  but  he  aims  his  sarcasms  on  the  hollowness 
of  Roman  life,  as  do  the  great  satirists  generally.  Tillemont  is  the 
basis  of  Gibbon's  history,  so  far  as  pertains  to  the  emperors. 

1  If  any  one  thinks  this  general  description  of  Roman  life  and  manners  ex 
aggerated,  he  can  turn  from  such  poets  as  Juvenal  arid  Martial,  and  read  what 
St.  Paul  says  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 


CHAPTER   XT. 

THE    FALL    OF    THE    EMPIRE. 

WE  have  contemplated  the  grandeur  and  the  glory  of 
the  Roman  empire  ;  and  we  have  also  seen,  in  connection 
with  the  magnificent  triumphs  of  art,  science,  literature, 
and  philosophy,  a  melancholy  degradation  of  society,  so 
fatal  and  universal,  that  all  strength  was  undermined,  and 
nothing  was  left  but  worn-out  mechanisms  and  lifeless 
forms  to  resist  the  pressure  of  external  enemies.  So  vast, 
so  strong,  so  proud  was  this  empire,  that  no  one  dreamed 
it  could  ever  be  subverted.  With  all  the  miseries  of  the 
people,  with  that  hateful  demoralization  which  pervaded 
all  classes  and  orders  and  interests,  there  was  still  a  splen 
did  external,  which  called  forth  general  panegyrics,  and 
the  idea  of  public  danger  was  derided  or  discredited.  If 
Rome,  in  the  infancy  of  the  republic,  had  resisted  the  in 
vading  Gauls,  what  was  there  to  fear  from  the  half-naked 
barbarians  who  lived  beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  empire  ? 
The  long-continued  peace  and  prosperity  had  engendered 
not  merely  the  vices  of  self-interest,  those  destructive 
cankers  which  ever  insure  a  ruin,  but  a  general  feeling  of 
security  and  self-exaggeration.  The  eternal  city  was  still 
prosperous  and  proud,  the  centre  of  all  that  was  grand  in 
the  civilization  of  the  ancient  world.  Provincial  cities 
vied  with  the  capital  in  luxuries,  in  pomps,  in  sports,  and 
in  commercial  wealth.  The  cultivated  face  of  nature  be 
tokened  universal  prosperity.  Nothing  was  wanting  but 
energy,  genius,  and  virtue  among  the  people. 

But  all  this  prosperity  was  deceptive.     All  was  rotten 


CHAP,  xi.]      The  Romans  suffer  retributive  Justice.         437 

and  hollow  at  heart ;  and,  had  there  not  been  universal 
delusion,  it  would  have  been  apparent  that  the  prosperity 
machine  would  break  up  at  the  first  great  shock.  decePtiye- 
There  was  no  spring  in  the  splendid  mechanism.  It  was 
broken,  and  society  had  really  been  retrograding  from  the 
time  of  Trajan  —  from  the  moment  that  it  had  completed 
its  task  of  conquest.  There  was  a  strange  torpor  every 
where,  so  soon  as  external  antagonism  had  ceased,  and  if 
the  barbarians  had  not  come  the  empire  would  have  been 
disintegrated,  and  would  scarcely  have  lasted  two  centuries 
longer. 

Moreover,  the  empire  had  fulfilled  its  mission.  It  had 
conquered  the  world  that  a  great  centralization  The  empire 

i»  -11  I  J  •  had  fulfilled 

or  power  might   be  created,  under  which  peace   its  mission. 
and  plenty  might  reign,  and  a  new  religion  might  spread. 

Still,  whatever  the  plans  of  Providence  may  have  been 
in  allowing  that  imperial  despotism  to  grow  and  spread 
from  the  banks  of  the  Tiber  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
civilized  world,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  a  great  retribution 
was  deserved  for  the  crimes  which  Rome  had  committed 
upon  mankind.  He  that  takes  the  sword  shall  perish  with 
the  sword.  Rome  had  drank  of  the  blood  of  millions,  and 
was  foul  with  all  the  abominations  of  the  countries  she  had 
subdued,  and  her  turn  must  come,  and  a  new  race  must 
try  new  experiments  for  humanity. 

The  great  instrument  of  God  in  punishing  wicked  na 
tions  and  effecting  important  changes,  is  war.  war  the  in- 

.    .  i .      i  strument  of 

There  are  other  forms  of  divine  displeasure,  punishment. 
Plague,  pestilence,  and  famine  are  often  sent  upon  de 
graded  peoples.  But  these  are  either  the  necessary  attend 
ants  on  war  itself,  or  they  are  limited  and  transient.  They 
do  not  produce  the  great  revolutions  in  which  new  ideas 
are  born  and  new  forms  of  social  life  arise. 

But  war  seems  to  be  the  ultimate  scourge  of  God,  when 
he  dooms  nations  to  destruction,  or  to  great  changes.  It 
combines  within  itself  all  kinds  of  evil  and  calamity  — 


438  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CUAP.  XL 

poverty,  sickness,  captivity,  disgrace,  and  death.  A  con 
quered  nation  is  most  forlorn  and  dismal.  The  song  of  the 
conquered  is — "By  the  rivers  of  Babylon  we  sat  down 
and  wept." 

The  passions  which  produce  war  are  born  in  hell.  They 
are  pride,  ambition,  cruelty,  avarice,  and  lust.  These  are 
the  natural  causes  which  array  nation  against  nation,  or 
people  against  people.  But  these  are  second  causes.  The 
primary  cause  is  God,  who  useth  the  passions  and  interests 
of  men,  as  his  instruments  of  punishment. 

How  impressive  the  history  of  the  different  civilized 
illustrated  nations,  which  formed  so  large  a  part  of  the  uni- 
tory^f^a-  versal  monarchy  of  the  Romans.  Assyria,  Egypt, 
Persia,  Asia  Minor,  Palestine,  Greece,  had  suc 
cessively  been  great  empires  and  states  —  independent  and 
conquering.  They  arose  from  the  prevalence  of  martial 
virtues,  of  courage,  temperance,  fortitude,  allied  with  am 
bition  and  poverty.  Then  monarchs  craved  greater  power 
and  possessions.  Their  passions  were  inexcusable ;  but 
they  possessed  men  who  were  powerful  and  not  enslaved 
to  enervating  vices.  They  made  war  on  nations  sunk  in 
effeminacy  and  vile  idolatries  —  men  worse  than  they. 
The  conquered  nations  needed  chastisement  and  recon 
struction  ;  and,  generally,  by  their  blindness  and  arrogance, 
provoked  the  issue.  Wealth  and  power  had  inflated  them 
with  false  security,  with  egotistic  aims  ;  or  else  had  ener 
vated  them  and  undermined  their  strength.  They  became 
subject  to  a  stronger  power.  Their  pride  was  buried  in  the 
dust.  They  became  enslaved,  miserable,  ruined.  They 
were  punished  in  as  signal,  though  not  miraculous  manner, 
as  the  Antediluvians,  or  the  cities  of  Sodom  and  Gomor 
rah.  The  same  hand,  however,  is  seen  in  vengeance  and 
in  mercy.  They  regained  in  adversity  the  strength  they 
had  lost  in  prosperity,  and  civilization  lost  nothing  by  their 
sufferings. 

The  conquering  powers,  in  their  turn,  became  powerful, 


CHAP.  XL]  Permanence  of  Civilization.  439 

wealthy,  and  corrupt.     Effeminacy  and  weakness  succeed 
ed;  war  came  upon  them,  and  they  became  the   Wareover. 
prey  of  the  stronger.     Their  conquerors,  again,   ruled- 
were    enslaved  by  their  vices,   and    their  empire  passed 
away  in  the  same  gloom  and  despair. 

We  see,  however,  in  each  successive  conquest,  the  de 
struction,  not  of  civilization,  but  of  men.  Countries  are 
overrun,  thrones  are  subverted,  the  rich  are  made  slaves, 
the  proud  utter  cries  of  despair  ;  but  the  land  survives,  and 
arts  and  science  take  a  new  direction,  and  the  new  masters 
are  more  interested  in  great  improvements  than  the  old  ty 
rants.  The  condition  of  Babylonia  was  probably  better  for 
the  Persian  conquest,  while  the  whole  oriental  world  gained 
by  the  wars  of  Alexander.  Grecian  culture  succeeded  Per 
sian  misrule.  The  Romans  came  and  took  away  from  Gre 
cian  dynasties,  in  Asia  and  Egypt,  when  they  became  en 
feebled  by  prosperity  and  self-indulgence,  the  powers  they 
had  usurped,  without  destroying  Grecian  civilization.  That 
remained,  and  will  remain,  in  some  form,  forever,  as  an 
heirloom  of  priceless  value  to  all  future  nations.  The 
Greeks,  when  they  conquered  the  Persians,  had  also  spared 
the  most  precious  monuments  of  their  former  industry  and 
genius.  The  Romans,  also,  when  they  conquered  Greece 
itself,  guarded  and  prized  her  peculiar  contributions  to 
mankind.  And  they  gave  to  all  these  conquered  terri 
tories,  something  of  their  own.  They  gave  laws,  and  a 
good  government.  The  Grecian  and  Asiatic  cities  were 
humiliated  by  what  they  regarded  as  barbaric  inroads ;  for 
the  culture  of  Athens,  Corinth,  Antioch,  and  Ephesus,  was 
higher  than  that  of  Rome,  at  that  time  ;  but  who  can 
doubt  a  beneficent  change  in  the  administration  of  public 
affairs?  Society  was  doubtless  improved  everywhere  by 
the  Roman  conquests.  It  is  not  probable  that  Athens,  after 
she  became  tributary  to  Rome,  was  equal  to  the  Athens  of 
Pericles  and  Plato  ;  but  it  is  probable  that  society  in 
Athens  was  better  than  what  it  was  for  a  century  before 


440  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XT. 

her  fall.  But  what  if  particular  cities  suffered  ?  These 
did  not  constitute  the  whole  country.  Can  it  be  doubted 
that  Syria,  as  a  province,  enjoyed  more  rational  liberty 
and  more  scope  for  energy,  under  the  Roman  rule,  than 
under  that  of  the  degenerate  scions  of  the  old  Grecian 
kings  ?  We  see  a  retribution  in  the  conquest,  and  also 
a  blessing  in  disguise. 

But  still  more  forcibly  are  these  truths  illustrated  in  the 
The  Celtic  conquest  of  the  Celtic  nations  of  Europe.  They 
were  barbarians  ;  they  had  neither  science,  nor 
literature,  nor  art ;  they  were  given  over  to  perpetual 
quarrels,  and  to  rude  pleasures.  Ignorance,  superstition, 
and  unrestrained  passions  were  the  main  features  of  so 
ciety.  Other  rude  warriors  wandered  from  place  to  place, 
with  no  other  end  than  pillage.  They  had  fine  elements 
of  character,  but  they  needed  civilization.  They  were 
conquered.  The  Romans  taught  them  laws,  and  language, 
and  literature,  and  arts.  Cities  arose  among  them,  and 
these  conquered  barbarians  became  the  friends  of  order 
and  peace,  and  formed  the  most  prosperous  part  of  the 
whole  empire.  It  was  from  these  Celtic  nations  that  the 
Roman  armies  were  recruited.  The  great  men  of  Rome, 
in  the  second  and  third  centuries,  came  from  these  Celtic 
provinces.  They  infused  a  new  blood  into  the  decaying 
body.  Who  can  doubt  the  benefit  to  mankind  by  the  con 
quests  of  Britain,  of  Gaul,  and  of  Spain  ?  The  Romans 
proved  the  greatest  civilizers  of  the  ancient  world,  with  all 
their  arrogance  and  want  of  appreciation  of  those  things 
which  gave  a  glory  to  the  Greeks.  They  introduced  among 
the  barbaric  nations  their  own  arts,  language,  literature, 
and  laws ;  and  the  civilization  which  they  taught  never 
passed  away.  It  was  obscured,  indeed,  during  the  revolu 
tions  which  succeeded  the  fall  of  the  empire,  but  it  was 
gradually  revived,  and  beamed  \vith  added  lustre  when  its 
merits  were  at  last  perceived. 

Thus  wars  are  not  an  unmixed  calamity,  since  the  evils 


CHAP,  xi.]          Barbarians  sent  as  Avengers.  441 

are  overruled  in  the  ultimate  good  of  nations.  But  they 
are  a  great  calamity  for  the  time,  and  they  are  sent  when 
nations  most  need  chastisement. 

The  Romans  triumphed,  by  their  great  and  unexampled 
energy  and  patience  and  heroism,  over  all  the  Conquestof 
world,  and  erected  their  universal  empire  upon  theCelts- 
the  ruins  of  all  the  states  of  antiquity.  They  were  suf 
fered  to  increase  and  prosper,  that  great  ends  might  be 
accomplished,  either  by  the  punishment  of  the  old  nations, 
or  the  creation  of  a  new  civilization. 

But  they,  in  their  turn,  became  corrupted  by  prosperity, 
and  enervated  by  peace.  They  had  been  guilty  of  the 
most  heartless  and  cruel  atrocities  for  eight  hundred  years. 
Their  empire  was  built  upon  the  miseries  of  mankind. 
They  also  must  needs  suffer  retribution. 

It  was  long  delayed.  It  did  not  come  till  every  con 
servative  influence  had  failed.  The  condition  of  society 
was  becoming  worse  and  worse,  until  it  reached  a  deprav 
ity  and  an  apathy  fatal  to  all  genius,  and  more  disgraceful 
than  among  those  people  whom  they  stigmatized  as  barba 
rians.  Then  must  come  revolution,  or  races  would  run 
out  and  civilization  be  lost. 

God  sent  war  —  universal,  cruel,  destructive  wrar,  at 
the  hands  of  unknown  warriors ;  and  they  effected  Barbaric 
a  total  eclipse  of  the  glory  of  man.  The  empire  coniuests- 
was  resolved  into  its  original  elements.  Its  lands  were 
overrun  and  pillaged ;  its  cities  were  burned  and  robbed  ; 
and  unmitigated  violence  overspread  the  earth,  so  that  the 
cry  of  despair  ascended  to  heaven,  from  the  Pillars  of  Her 
cules  to  the  Caspian  Sea.  Indeed,  the  end  of  the  world 
was  so  generally  believed  to  be  at  hand,  on  this  universal 
upturning  of  society,  that  some  of  the  best  men  fled  to 
caves  and  deserts ;  and  there  were  more  monks  that  sought 
personal  salvation  by  their  austerities,  than  soldiers  who 
braved  their  lives  in  battle. 

It  is  this  great  revolution  which  I  seek  to  present,  this 


442  The  Fall  of  ike  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

great  catastrophe  to  which  the  Romans  were  subjected, 
after  having  conquered  one  hundred  and  twenty  millions 
of  people.  It  was  probably  the  most  mournful,  in  all  its 
aspects,  ever  seen  on  the  face  of  this  earth  since  the  uni 
versal  deluge.  Never,  surely,  were  such  calamities  pro 
duced  by  the  hand  of  man.  The  Greeks  and  Romans, 
when  they  had  conquered  a  rebellious  or  enervated  nation, 
introduced  their  civilization,  and  promoted  peace  and  gen 
eral  security.  They  brought  laws,  science,  literature,  and 
arts,  in  the  train  of  their  armies ;  they  did  not  sweep  away 
ancient  institutions  ;  they  left  the  people  as  they  found 
them,  only  with  greater  facilities  of  getting  rich  ;  they  pre 
served  the  pictures,  the  statues,  and  the  temples  ;  they 
honored  the  literature  and  revered  the  sages  who  taught 
it  ;  they  may  have  brought  captives  to  their  capitals  as 
slaves,  but  they  did  not  root  out  every  trace  of  cultivation, 
or  regarded  it  with  haughty  scorn.  But,  when  their  turn 
of  punishment  came,  the  whole  world  was  filled  with 
mourning  and  desolation,  and  all  the  relations  of  society 
were  reversed. 

It  was  a  sad  hour  in  the  old  capital  of  the  world,  when 
infatuation  its  blinded  inhabitants  were  aroused  from  the 
Romans.  stupendous  delusion  that  they  were  invincible  ; 
when  the  crushing  fact  stared  every  one  in  the  face,  that 
the  legions  had  been  conquered,  that  province  after  prov 
ince  had  been  overrun,  that  proud  and  populous  cities  had 
fallen,  that  the  barbarians  were  advancing,  treading  be 
neath  their  feet  all  that  had  been  deemed  valuable,  or  rare, 
or  sacred,  that  they  were  advancing  to  the  very  gates  of 
Rome,  —  that  her  doom  was  sealed,  that  there  was  no 
shelter  to  which  they  could  fly,  that  there  was  no  way  by 
which  ruin  could  be  averted,  that  they  were  doomed  to 
hopeless  poverty  or  servitude,  that  their  wives  and  daugh 
ters  would  be  subject  to  indignities  which  were  worse  than 
death,  and  that  all  the  evils  their  ancestors  had  inflicted  in 
their  triumphant  march,  would  be  visited  upon  them  with 


CHAP,  xi.]  National  Delusion.  443 

tenfold  severity.  The  Romans,  even  then,  when  they  cast 
their  eyes  upon  external  nature,  saw  rich  corn-fields,  smil 
ing  vineyards,  luxurious  gardens,  yea,  villas  and  temples 
an*d  palaces  without  end  ;  and  how  could  these  be  de 
stroyed  which  had  lasted  for  centuries  ?  How  could  the 
eternal  city,  which  had  not  seen  a  foreign  enemy  near  its 
gates  since  the  invasion  of  the  Gauls,  which  had  escaped 
all  dangers,  so  rich  and  gay,  how  could  she  now  yield  to 
naked  barbarians  from  unknown  forests?  They  still^  be 
held  the  splendid  mechanism  of  government,  the  glitter 
and  the  pomp  of  armies,  triumphal  processions,  new  monu 
ments  of  victory,  the  proud  eagles,  and  all  the  emblems  of 
unlimited  dominion.  What  had  they  to  fear  ?  "Nihil  est, 
Quirites,  quod  timer e  possitis." 

Nor  to  the  eye  of  contemporaries  was  the  great  change, 
which  had  gradually  taken  place  since  the  reign  ^J.fcyof 
of  Trajan,  apparent.     Cowardice  and  weakness  the  Roman., 
were  veiled  from  the  view  of  men.     In  proportion  to  the 
imbecility  of  the  troops,  were  the  richness  of  their  uniform, 
and  the  insolence  of  their  manners.  It  was  the  day  of  boasts 
and  pomps.     All  forms  and  emblems    had    their  ancient 
force.     All    men   partook  of  the  vices  and    follies  which 
were   praised.     In   their  levity  and  delusion,  they  did  not 
see  the  real  emptiness  and  hollowness  of  their  institutions. 
A  blinded  generation  never  can  see  the  signs  of  the  times. 
Only  a  few  contemplative   men  hid  themselves  in  retired 
places,  but  were  denounced  as  croakers  or  evil  minded. 
Every  body  was  interested  in   keeping  up  the  delusion. 
Panics  seldom  last  long.     The  world  is  too  fond  of  its  ease 
to  believe  the  truths  which  break  up  repose  and  gains.  All 
felt  safe,  because  they  had  always  been  protected.     Ruin 
might  come  ultimately,  but  not  in  their  day.     "Apres  moi 
le  deluge."     No  one  would  make  sacrifices,  since  no  one 
feared  immediate  danger.     Moreover,  public  spirit  and  pa 
triotism  had  fled.     If  their  cities  were  in  danger,  they  said, 
better  perish  here  with  our  wives  and  children  than  die  on 


444  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

the  frontiers  after  having  suffered  every  privation  and  ex 
posure.  There  must  have  been  a  universal  indifference,  or 
the  barbarians  could  not  have  triumphed.  The  Romans 
had  every  inducement  which  any  people  ever  had  to  a 
brave  and  desperate  resistance.  Not  merely  their  own 
lives,  but  the  security  of  their  families  was  at  stake.  Their 
institutions,  their  interests,  their  rights,  their  homes,  their 
altars,  all  were  in  jeopardy.  And  they  were  attacked  by 
most  merciless  enemies,  without  pity  or  respect,  and  yet 
they  would  not  fight,  as  nations  should  fight,  and  do  some 
times  fight,  when  their  country  is  invaded.  Why  did  they 
offer  no  more  stubborn  resistance  ?  Why  did  the  full-armed 
and  well-trained  legions  yield  to  barbaric  foes,  without  dis 
cipline  and  without  the  most  effective  weapons  ?  Alas,  dis 
pirited  and  enervated  people  will  never  fight.  They  prefer 
slavery  to  death.  Thus  Persia  succumbed  before  Alexan 
der,  and  Asia  Minor  before  the  Saracen  generals.  Martial 
courage  goes  hand  in  hand  with  virtue.  Without  elevation 
of  sentiment  there  will  be  no  self-sacrifice.  There  is  no 
hope  when  nations  are  abandoned  to  sensuality  or  egotism. 
We  must  believe  in  a  most  extraordinary  degeneracy  of 
weakness  of  society,  or  Rome  would  not  have  fallen.  With 
the  empire.  any  common  degree  of  courage,  the  empire  should 
have  resisted  the  Goths  and  Vandals.  They  were  not 
more  numerous  than  those  hordes  which  Marius  and  Caesar 
annihilated  even  in  their  own  marshes  and  forests.  It  was 
not  like  the  Macedonians,  with  their  impenetrable  phalanx, 
and  their  perfected  armor,  contending  with  semi-barbari 
ans.  It  was  not  like  the  Spaniards,  marching  over  Peru 
and  Mexico.  It  was  not  like  the  English,  with  all  the  im 
proved  weapons  of  our  modern  times,  firing  upon  a  people 
armed  with  darts  and  arrows.  But  it  was  barbarians, 
without  defensive  armor,  without  discipline,  without  pres 
tige,  attacking  legions  which  had  been  a  thousand  years 
learning  the  art  of  war.  Proh  Pudor  !  The  soldiers  of 
the  empire  must  have  lost  their  ancient  spirit.  They 


CHAP.  XL]  The  Conquerors  of  Home.  445 

must  have  represented  a  most  worthless  people.  We  lose 
our  pity  in  the  strength  of  our  indignation  and  disgust.  A 
civilized  nation  that  will  yield  to  barbarians  must  deserve 
their  fate.  Noble  as  were  the  elements  of  character  among 
the  Germanic  tribes,  they  were  yet  barbarians  in  arts,  in 
manners,  in  knowledge,  in  mechanisms.  They  had  noth 
ing  but  brute  force.  Science  should  have  conquered  brute 
force  ;  but  it  did  not.  We  cannot  but  infer  a  most  start 
ling  degeneracy.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  have  no 
more  satisfactory  data  as  to  the  precise  state  of  society.  I 
am  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  society  was  much  more 
degraded  than  it  is  generally  supposed.  When  for  two 
centuries  the  whole  empire  scarcely  produced  a  poet,  or  a 
philosopher,  or  an  historian  ;  when  even  the  writings  of 
famous  men  in  the  time  of  Augustus  were  lost  or  unread  ; 
when,  from  Trajan  to  Honorius,  a  period  of  three  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  scarcely  a  work  of  original  genius  appeared, 
it  must  be  that  society  was  utterly  demoralized,  and  all  life 
and  vigor  had  fled. 

Then  it  was  time  for  the  empire  to  fall.  And  it  is  our 
work  to  sketch  the  ruin  —  and  such  a  ruin.  The  conquerors 
bloody  conquerors  were  Goths  and  Vandals,  and  ° 
other  Teutonic  tribes  —  Franks,  Sueves,  Alans,  Heruli, 
Burgundians,  Lombards,  Saxons.  They  came  originally 
from  Central  Asia,  in  the  region  of  the  Caspian  Sea,  and 
were  kindred  to  the  Medes  and  Persians.  They  drove  be 
fore  them  older  inhabitants,  probably  Celtic  nations,  and 
ultimately  settled  in  the  vast  region  between  the  Baltic  and 
the  Danube,  the  Rhine  and  the  Vistula,  embracing  those 
countries  which  are  now  called  Norway,  Sweden,  Den 
mark,  and  Germany. 

All  these  tribes  were  probably  similar  in  manners,  habits, 
tastes,  and  natural  elements  of  character.  Tacitus  has 
furnished  us  with  the  most  authentic  record  of  their  cus 
toms  and  peculiarities.1  Their  eyes  were  stern  and  blue, 

1  Tacitus,  -De  Moribus  Germanorum. 


440  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  xi. 

their  hair  red,  their  bodies  large,  their  strength  great. 
They  were  ruled  by  kings,  but  not  with  unlimited  power. 
The  priests  had  also  an  extraordinary  influence,  which  they 
shared  with  the  women,  who  were  present  in  battles,  and 
who  were  characterized  for  great  purity  and  courage.  Even 
the  power  to  predict  the  future  was  ascribed  to  women. 
The  German-  The  Germans  were  superstitious,  and  were  given 
ic  nations.  iQ  divinations  by  omens  and  lots,  by  the  flight  of 
birds  and  the  neighing  of  horses.  They  transacted  no  busi 
ness,  public  or  private,  without  being  armed.  They  were 
warlike  in  all  their  habits  and  tastes,  and  the  field  of  battle 
was  the  field  of  glory.  Their  chief  deity  was  an  heroic 
prince.  Odin,  the  type-man  of  the  nation,  was  a  wild  cap 
tain,  who  taught  that  it  was  most  honorable  to  die  in  battle. 
They  hated  repose  and  inactivity,  and,  when  not  engaged 
in  war,  they  pursued  with  eagerness  the  pleasures  of  the 
chase  ;  yet,  during  the  intervals  of  war  and  hunting,  they 
divided  their  time  between  sleeping  and  feasting.  They 
loved  the  forests,  and  dangerous  sports,  and  adventurous 
enterprises.  They  abhorred  cities,  which  they  regarded  as 
prisons  of  despotism.  A  rude  passion  for  personal  independ 
ence  was  one  of  their  chief  characteristics,  as  powerful  as 
veneration  for  the  women  and  religious  tendency  of  mind. 
They  would  brook  no  restraint  on  their  wills  or  their  pas 
sions.  Their  wills  were  stern  and  their  passions  impetu 
ous.  They  only  yielded  to  the  voice  of  entreaty  or  of 
love.  They  were  ordinarily  temperate,  except  on  rare 
occasions,  when  they  indulged  in  drunken  festivities. 
Chastity  was  a  virtue  which  was  rigorously  practiced. 
There  were  few  cases  of  adultery  among  them,  and  the 
unfaithful  wife  was  severely  punished.  Men  and  women, 
without  seductive  spectacles  or  convivial  banquets,  were 
fenced  around  with  chastity,  and  bound  together  by  family 
ties.  Polygamy  was  unknown,  and  the  marriage  obliga 
tion  was  sacred.  The  wife  brought  no  dowry  to  her  hus 
band,  but  received  one  from  him,  not  frivolous  presents, 


CHAP.  XL]    Manners  and  Traits  of  the  Barbarians.      447 

but  oxen,  a  caparisoned  steed,  a  shield,  spear,  and  sword, 
to  indicate  that  she  is  to  be  a  partner  in  toil  and  danger,  to 
suffer  and  to  dare  in  peace  and  war.  Hospitality  was  an 
other  virtue,  extended  equally  to  strangers  and  acquaint 
ances,  but,  at  the  festive  board,  quarrels  often  took  place, 
and  enmities  once  formed  were  rarely  forgiven.  Vindic 
tive  resentments  were  as  marked  as  cordial  and  frank 
friendships.  They  drank  beer  or  ale,  instead  of  wine,  at 
their  feasts,  although  their  ordinary  drink  was  water. 
Their  food  was  fruits,  cheese,  milk,  and  venison.  They 
had  an  inordinate  passion  for  gambling,  and  would  even 
stake  their  very  freedom  on  a  throw.  Slavery  was  com 
mon,  but  not  so  severe  and  ruthless  as  among  the  Romans. 
They  had  but  little  commerce,  and  were  unacquainted  with 
the  arts  of  usury.  Their  agriculture  was  rude,  and  corn 
was  the  only  product  they  raised.  They  had  the  ordinary 
domestic  animals,  but  their  horses  were  neither  beautiful 
nor  swift. 

It  is  easy  to  see  that,  in  their  manners  and  traits,  they 
had  a  great  resemblance  to  the  Celts,  before  they  Thena. 
were  subdued  and  civilized,  but  were  not  so  pas-  &£&* 
sionate,  nor  impulsive,  nor  thoughtless,  nor  reck-  the^rbl-0 
less  as  they.     Nor  were  they  so  much  addicted 
to  gluttony  and  drunkenness.     They  were  more  persever 
ing,  more  earnest,  more  truthful,  and  more  chaste.     Nor 
were  they  so  much  enslaved  by  the  priesthood.     The  Dru- 
idical  rule  was  confined  to  the  Celts,  yet,  like  the  Celts, 
they  worshiped   God   in    the   consecrated   grove.     Their 
religion  was  pantheistic  :  they  saw  God  in  the  rocks,  the 
rain,  the  thunder,  the  clouds,  the  rivers,  the  mountains,  the 
stars.     He  was  supposed  to  preside  everywhere,  and  to  be 
a   supreme   intelligence.     Their  view  of  God  was   quite 
similar  to  the  early  Ionic  philosophers  of  Greece  :  <|  Regna- 
tor  omnium  deus,  ccetera  subjecta  atque  parentia."     They 
were  never  idol-worshipers  ;  they  worshiped  nature,  and 
called  its  wonders  gods.     But  this  worship  of  nature  was 


448  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XI. 

modified  by  the  worship  of  a  hero.  In  Odin  they  beheld 
strength,  courage,  magnanimity,  the  attributes  they  adored. 
To  be  brave  was  an  elemental  principle  of  religion,  and 
they  attributed  to  the  Deity  every  thing  which  could  inspire 
horror  as  the  terrible,  —  the  angry  god  who  marked  out 
those  destined  to  be  slain.  Hence  their  groves,  where  he 
was  supposed  to  preside,  were  dark  and  mysterious.  We 
adore  the  gloom  of  woods,  the  silence  which  reigns  around. 
"  IAICOS,  atque  in  Us  silentia,  ipsa  adoremus."  While  the 
priests  of  this  awful  being  were  not  so  despotic  as  the 
Druids,  they  still  exercised  a  great  ascendency  :  they  con 
jured  the  storms  of  internal  war;  they  pronounced  the 
terrible  anathema  ;  they  imparted  to  military  commanders 
a  sacred  authority  ;  and  they  carried  at  the  head  of  their 
armies  the  consecrated  banner  of  the  Deity.  In  short,  they 
wielded  those  spiritual  weapons  which  afterward  became 
thunderbolts  in  the  hands  of  the  clergy,  and  which  pre 
pared  the  way  for  the  autocratic  reign  of  the  popes,  in 
whom  the  Germanic  nations  ever  recognized  the  vicegerent 
of  their  invisible  Lord.  They  were  most  preeminently  a 
religious  people,  governed  by  religious  ideas  —  by  which 
I  mean  they  recognized  a  deity  to  whose  will  they  were  to 
be  obedient,  and  whose  favor  could  only  be  purchased  by 
deeds  of  valor  or  virtue.  Their  morality  sprung  out  of 
veneration  for  the  Great  Unseen,  in  whose  hands  were  their 
destinies. 

This  trait  is  the  most  remarkable  and  prominent  among 
the  Germans,  next  to  their  fierce  passion  for  war,  their 
veneration  for  woman,  and  their  love  of  personal  inde 
pendence,  to  which  last  Guizot  attaches  great  importance. 
The  feeling  one's  self  a  man  in  the  most  unrestricted  sense, 
was  the  highest  pleasure  of  the  German  barbarian.  There 
was  a  personality  of  feeling  and  interest  hostile  to  social 
forms  and  municipal  regulations.  They  cared  for  nothing 
beyond  the  gratification  of  their  inclinations.  To  be  unre 
strained,  to  be  free  in  the  wildest  sense,  to  do  what  they 


CHAP.  XL]     Character  of  the   Germanic  Nations.  449 

pleased  under  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  this  was  their 
leading  characteristic.  Who  cannot  see  that  such  a  trait 
was  hostile  to  civilization,  and  would  prevent  obedience  to 
law  —  would  make  the  uncultivated  warrior  unsocial  and 
solitary,  and  lead  him,  in  after-times,  when  he  got  posses 
sion  of  the  lands  of  the  conquered  Romans,  to  build  his 
castle  on  inaccessible  heights  and  rugged  rocks  ?  Hence 
isolated  retreats,  wild  adventures,  country  life,  the  pleasures 
of  the  chase,  characterized  the  new  settlers.  They  avoided 
cities,  and  built  castles. 

This  passion  for  liberty,  accompanied  with  the  spirit  of 
daring,  adventure,  and  war,  would  have  been  Nationai 
fatal  but  for  the  rule  of  priests,  and  the  great  in-  traits> 
fluence  of  woman.  In  this  latter  element  of  character,  the 
barbarians  from  Scandinavia  stand  out  in  interesting  con 
trast  with  the  civilized  nations  whom  they  subverted. 
They  evidently  had  a  greater  respect  for  woman  than  any 
of  the  nations  of  antiquity,  not  excepting  the  Jews.  In 
her  they  beheld  something  sacred  and  divine.  In  her 
voice  was  inspiration,  and  in  her  presence  there  was  safety. 
There  was  no  true  enthusiasm  for  woman  in  Greece  even 
when  Socrates  bowed  before  the  charms  of  Aspasia.  There 
was  none  at  Rome  when  Volumnia  screened  the  city  from 
the  vengeance  of  her  angry  son.  But  the  Germans  wor 
shiped  the  fair,  and  beheld  in  her  the  incarnation  character  of 

the  German- 

of  all  virtue  and  loveliness.  And  thus,  among  ic  nations. 
such  a  race,  arose  the  glorious  old  institution  of  chivalry, 
which  could,  not  have  existed  among  the  Romans  or  the 
Greeks,  even  after  Christianity  had  softened  the  character 
and  enlarged  the  heart.  In  the  baronial  mansion  of  the 
Middle  Ages  this  natural  veneration  was  ripened  into  de 
votion  and  gallantry.  Among  the  knights,  zeal  for  God 
and  the  ladies  was  enjoined  as  a  single  duty  ;  and  "  he 
who  was  faithful  to  his  mistress,"  says  Hallam,  "  was  sure 
of  salvation,  in  the  theology  of  castles,  if  not  of  cloisters." 
This  devotion  was  expressed  in  the  rude  poetry  of  barba- 


450  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

rous  ages,  in  the  sports  of  the  tournament  and  tilt,  in  the 
feasts  of  the  castle,  in  the  masculine  pleasures  of  the  chase, 
in  the  control  of  the  household,  in  the  education  of  chil 
dren,  in  the  laws  which  recognized  equality,  in  the  free 
companionship  with  man,  in  the  trust  reposed  in  female 
honor  and  virtue,  in  the  delicacy  of  love,  and  in  the  refine 
ments  of  friendship.  This  trait  alone  shows  the  superior 
nature  of  the  Germanic  races,  especially  when  taught  by 
Christianity,  and  makes  us  rejoice  that  the  magnificent 
conquests  of  the  Romans  were  given  to  them  for  their 
proud  inheritance. 

Such  were  the  men  who  became  the  heirs  of  the  Ro 
mans,  —  races  never  subdued  by  arms  or  vices,  among 
whom  Christianity  took  a  peculiar  hold,  and  gradually 
developed  among  them  principles  of  progress  such  as  were 
never  seen  among  the  older  nations.  Can  we  wonder 

o 

that  such  men  should  prevail  ?  —  men  who  loved  war  as 
the  Romans  did  under  the  republic  ;  men  who  gloried  in 
their  very  losses,  and  felt  that  death  in  the  field  would  secure 
future  salvation  and  everlasting  honor ;  men  full  of  hope, 
energy,  enthusiasm,  and  zeal  ;  men  who  had,  what  the  old 
races  had  not,  —  a  soul,  life,  uncorrupted  forces. 

Yet,  when  they  invaded  the  Roman  world,  it  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  they  were  rude,  ignorant,  wild,  fierce, 
and  unscrupulous.  They  were  held  in  absolute  detestation, 
as  the  North  American  Indians,  whom  they  resembled  in 
many  important  respects,  were  held  in  this  country  two 
hundred  years  ago.  Their  object  was  pillage.  They 
roamed  in  search  of  more  fruitful  lands  and  a  more  con 
genial  sky.  They  were  bent  on  conquest,  rapine,  and  vio 
lence.  They  were  called  the  Northern  Hordes  —  barba 
rians —  and  even  their  vices  were  exaggerated.  They 
were,  indeed,  most  formidable  and  terrific  foes  ;  and  when 
conquered  in  battle  would  rally  their  forces,  and  press  for 
ward  with  renewed  numbers. 

The  first  of  these  Teutonic  barbarians  who  made  success- 


CHAP.  XL]  The    Goths.  451 

ful  inroads  were  the  Goths.  I  do  not  now  allude  to  the 
Celtic  nations  who  were  completely  subdued  and  ^  Gothg 
incorporated  with  the  empire  before  the  acces 
sion  of  the  emperors.  Nor  do  I  speak  of  the  Teutons 
whom  Marius  defeated  one  hundred  years  before  the 
Christian  era,  nor  yet  of  the  Germanic  tribes  who  made 
unsuccessful  inroads  during  the  reigns  of  the  earlier  em 
perors.  Augustus  must  have  had  melancholy  premonitions 
of  danger  when  his  general,  Varus,  suffered  a  disgraceful 
defeat  by  the  sword  of  Arminus  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the 
Teuto-burger  Wald,  even  as  Charlemagne  covered  his  face 
with  his  iron  hands  when  he  saw  the  invasion  of  his  terri 
tories  by  the  Norman  pirates.  For  three  centuries  there 
was  a  constant  struggle  between  the  Roman  armies  and 
the  barbarians  beyond  the  Rhine.  In  the  reign  of  Marcus 
Antoninus  they  formed  a  general  union  for  the  invasion  of 
the  Roman  world,  but  they  were  signally  defeated,  and  the 
great  pillar  of  Marcus  Aurelius  describes  his  victories  on 
the  Danube,  who  died  combating  the  Vandals,  A.  D.  180. 
In  the  year  241  A.  D.,  the  great  Aurelian  is  seen  fighting 
the  Franks  near  Mayence,  who,  nevertheless,  pressed  for 
ward  until  they  made  their  way  into  Spain. 

The  most  formidable  of  the  enemies  of  Rome  were  the 
Goths.  When  first  spoken  of  in  history  they  inhabited  the 
shores  of  the  Baltic.  They  were  called  by  Tacitus,  Gothones. 
In  the  time  of  Caracalla  they  had  migrated  to  the  coast  of 
the  Black  Sea.  Under  the  reign  of  Alexander  Severus,  222- 
235,  A.  D.,  they  threatened  the  peace  of  the  province  of 
Dacia.  Under  Philip,  A.  r>.  244-249,  they  sue-  Inyasion  of 
ceeded  in  conquering  that  province,  and  pen 
etrated  into  Moesia.  In  the  year  251,  they  encoun 
tered  a  Roman  army  under  Decius,  which  they  anni 
hilated,  and  the  emperor  himself  was  slain.  Then  they 
continued  their  ravages  along  the  coasts  of  the  Euxine 
until  they  made  themselves  masters  of  the  Crimea.  With 
a  large  fleet  of  flat-boats  they  sailed  to  all  the  north- 


452  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

ern  parts  of  the  Euxine,  took  Pityus  and  Trapezus,  at 
tacked  the  wealthy  cities  on  the  Thracian  Bosphorus,  con 
quered  Chalcedon,  Nicomedia,  and  Nice,  and  retreated 
laden  with  spoil.  The  next  year,  with  five  hundred  boats 
—  they  cannot  be  called  ships,  —  they  pursued  their  de 
structive  navigation,  destroyed  Cyzicus,  crossed  the  ^Egean 
Sea,  and  landed  at  Athens,  which  they  plundered.  Thebes. 
Argos,  Corinth,  and  Sparta  were  unable  to  defend  their 
dilapidated  fortifications.  They  advanced  to  the  coasts  of 
Epirus  and  devastated  the  whole  Illyrian  peninsula.  In 
this  destructive  expedition  they  destroyed  the  famous 
temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus,  with  its  one  hundred  and 
twenty-seven  marble  columns  sixty  feet  in  height,  and  its 
interior  ornamented  with  the  choicest  sculptures  of  Praxit 
eles.  But  they  at  length  got  wearied  of  danger  and  toil, 
and  returned  through  Moesia  to  their  own  settlements. 
Though  this  incursion  was  a  raid  rather  than  a  conquest, 
yet  what  are  we  to  think  of  the  military  strength  of  the 
empire  and  the  condition  of  society,  when,  in  less  than  three 
hundred  years  after  Augustus  had  shut  the  temple  of  Janus, 
fifteen  thousand  undisciplined  barbarians,  without  even  a 
leader  of  historic  fame,  were  allowed  to  ravage  the  most 
populous  and  cultivated  part  of  the  empire,  even  the 
classic  cities  which  had  resisted  the  Persian  hosts,  and 
retire  unmolested  with  their  spoils  ?  The  Emperor  Gal- 
lienus,  one  of  the  most  frivolous  of  all  the  Cassars,  received 
the  intelligence  with  epicurean  indifference,  and  aban 
doned  himself  to  inglorious  pleasures ;  and  as  Nero  is  said 
to  have  fiddled  while  his  capital  was  in  ashes,  so  he,  in  this 
great  emergency,  consumed  his  time  in  gardening  and  the 
arts  of  cookery,  and  was  commended  by  his  idolatrous 
courtiers  as  a  philosopher  and  a  hero. 

In  fact,  this  invasion  of  the  Goths  was  not  contemplated 
with  that  alarm  which  it  ought  to  have  excited,  but  rather 
as  an  accidental  evil,  like  a  pestilence  or  a  plague.  More 
over,  it  was  lost  sight  of  in  the  general  misery  and  misfortunes 


CHAP,  xi.]  Gothic  Successes  and  Defeats.  453 

of  the  times.  The  Emperor  Valerian  had  just  been  defeated 
and  taken  prisoner  by  Sapor.  Pretenders  had  started  up  in 
nineteen  different  places  for  the  imperial  purple.  Banditti 
had  spread  devastation  in  Sicily.  Alexandria  was  disturbed 
by  tumults.  Famine  and  the  plague  raged  for  ten  years  in 
nearly  all  parts  of  the  empire.  Rome  lost  by  the  pestilence 
five  thousand  daily,  while  half  the  inhabitants  of  Alexandria 
were  swept  away.  Soldiers,  tyrants,  barbarians,  and  the 
visitation  of  God  threatened  the  ruin  of  the  Roman  world. 

But  the  ruin  was  staved  off  one  hundred  years  by  the  la 
bors  and  genius  of  a  series  of  great  princes,  who  traced  their 
origin  to  the  martial  province  of  Illyricum.  And  all  that 
was  in  the  power  of  the  emperors  to  do  was  done  to  arrest 
destruction.  No  empire  was  ever  ruled  by  a  succession  of 
better  and  greater  men  than  the  calamities  of  the  times 
raised  up  on  the  death  of  Gallienus,  A.  D.  268.  But  what 
avail  the  energy  and  talents  of  rulers  when  a  nation  is 
doomed  to  destruction  ?  We  have  the  profoundest  admi 
ration  for  the  imperial  heroes  who  bore  the  burdens  of  a 
throne  in  those  days  of  tribulation.  They  succeeded  in 
restoring  the  ancient  glories  —  but  glories  followed  by  a 
deeper  shame.  They  attempted  impossibilities  when  their 
subjects  were  sunk  in  sloth  and  degradation. 

Claudius,  one  of  the  generals  of  Gallienus,  was  invested 
with  the  purple  at  the  age  of  fifty-four.  He  re-  success  and 

,        .,..  ,,:.,.  •        i"  i  i     defeat  of  the 

stored  military  discipline,  revived  law,  repressed  Goths. 
turbulence,  and  bent  his  thoughts  to  head  off  the  barbaric 
invasions.  The  various  nations  of  Germany  and  Sarmatia, 
united  under  the  Gothic  standard,  and  in  six  thousand  ves 
sels,  prepared  once  more  to  ravage  the  world.  Sailing 
from  the  banks  of  the  Dniester,  they  crossed  the  Euxine, 
passed  through  the  Bosphorus,  anchored  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Athos,  and  assaulted  Thessalonica,  the  wealthy  cap 
ital  of  the  Macedonian  provinces.  Claudius  advanced  to 
meet  these  three  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  barbarians. 
At  Naissus,  in  Dalmatia,  was  fought  one  of  the  most 


454  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XI. 

memorable  and  bloody  battles  of  ancient  times,  but  not 
one  of  the  most  decisive.  Fifty  thousand  Goths  were  slain 
in  that  dreadful  fight.  Three  Gothic  women  fell  to  the 
share  of  every  imperial  soldier.  The  discomfited  warriors 
fled  in  consternation,  but  their  retreat  was  cut  off  by  the 
destruction  of  their  fleet ;  and  on  the  return  of  spring  the 
mighty  host  had  dwindled  to  a  desperate  band  in  the  inac 
cessible  parts  of  Mount  Hemus. 

Claudius  survived  his  victory  but  two  years,  and  was 
victories  of  succeeded,  A.  D.  270,  by  a  still  greater  man  —  his 
Claudius.  general  Aurelian,  whose  father  had  been  a 
peasant  of  Sirmium.  Every  day  of  his  short  reign  was 
filled  with  wonders.  He  put  an  end  to  the  Gothic  war ; 
he  chastised  the  Germans  who  invaded  Italy ;  he  recov 
ered  Gaul,  Spain,  and  Britain,  from  the  hands  of  an 
usurper ;  he  destroyed  the  proud  monarchy  which  Zenobia 
had  built  up  in  the  deserts  of  the  East ;  he  defeated  the 
Alemanni  who,  with  eighty  thousand  foot  and  forty  thou 
sand  horse,  had  devastated  the  country  from  the  Danube 
to  the  Po  ;  and,  not  least,  he  took  Zenobia  herself  a  pris 
oner —  one  of  the  most  celebrated  women  of  antiquity, 
equaling  Cleopatra  in  beauty,  Elizabeth  in  learning,  and 
Artemisia  in  valor  —  a  woman  who  blended  the  popular 
manners  of  the  Roman  princes  with  the  stately  pomp  of 
oriental  kings. 

Zenobia,  queen  of  Palmyra,  the  widow  of  Odenatus, 
ruled  a  large  portion  of  Asia  Minor,  Syria,  and  Egypt, 
and  with  a  numerous  army  she  advanced  to  meet  the  im 
perial  legions.  Conquered  in  two  disastrous  battles,  she 
retired  to  the  beautiful  city  which  Solomon  had  built, 
shaded  with  palms,  ornamented  with  palaces,  and  rich  in 
oriental  treasure.  Then  again,  attacked  by  her  perse 
vering  enemy,  she  mounted  the  fleetest  of  her  dromedaries, 
but  was  overtaken  on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  and 
brought  a  captive  to  the  tent  of  the  martial  emperor,  while 
Palmyra,  her  capital,  with  all  its  riches,  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  conqueror. 


CHAP,  xi.]  Success  of  Tacitus.  455 

Aurelian,  with  the  haughty  queen  who  had  presumed  to 
rise  up  in  arms  against  the  empire,  returned  to  Successe80f 
Rome,  and  then  was  celebrated  the  most  mag-  Aurehan- 
nificent  triumph  which  the  world  had  seen  since  the  days 
of  Pompey  and  of  Cassar.  And  since  the  foundation  of 
the  city,  no  conqueror  more  richly  deserved  a  triumph 
than  this  virtuous  and  rugged  soldier  of  fortune.  And  as 
the  august  procession,  with  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance 
of  war,  moved  along  the  Via  Sacra,  up  the  Capitoline  Hill, 
and  halted  at  the  Temple  of  Jupiter,  to  receive  the  ben 
ediction  of  the  priests,  and  to  deposit  within  its  sacred 
walls  the  treasures  of  the  East,  it  would  seem  that  Rome 
was  destined  to  surmount  the  ordinary  fate  of  nations,  and 
reign  as  mistress  of  the  world  per  secula  seculorum. 

But  this  grand  pageant  was  only  one  of  the  last  glories 
of  the  setting  sun  of  Roman  greatness.  Aurelian  had  no 
peace  or  repose.  "  The  gods  decree,"  said  the  impatient 
emperor,  "  that  my  life  should  be  a  perpetual  warfare." 
He  was  obliged  to  take  the  field  a  few  months  after  his 
triumph,  and  was  slain,  not  in  battle,  but  by  the  hands  of 
assassins  —  the  common  fate  of  his  predecessors  and  succes 
ses —  "the  regular  portal"  through  which  the  Caesars 
passed  to  their  account  with  the  eternal  Judge.  He  had 
boasted  that  public  danger  had  passed  —  "  Ego  efficiam  ne 
sit  aliqua  solicitude*  Romana.  Nos  publicce  necessitates 
teneant ;  vos  occupent  voluptates."  But  scarcely  had  this 
warlike  prince  sung  his  requiem  to  the  agitations  of  Rome 
before  new  dangers  arose,  and  his  sceptre  descended  to  a 
man  seventy-five  years  of  age. 

Tacitus,  the  new  emperor,  was  however  worthy  of  his 
throne.  He  was  selected  as  the  most  fitting  man  that 
could  be  found.  Scarcely  was  he  inaugurated,  before  he 
was  obliged  to  march  against  the  Alans,  who  had  spread 
their  destructive  ravages  over  Pontus,  Cappadocia,  Cilicia, 
and  Galatia.  He  lost  his  life,  though  successful  in  battle, 
arnid  the  hardships  of  a  winter  campaign,  and  Probus,  one 


456  Tlie  Fall  of  ike  Empire.  [CHAP.  XI 

of  his  generals,  who  had  once  been  an  Illyrian  peasant, 
was  clothed  with  the  imperial  purple,  A.  D.  278. 

This  vigorous  monarch  was  then  forty-five  years  of  age, 
The«uc-  in  the  prime  of  his  strength,  popular  with  the 

cesses  of  .      .  °  . *    . 

Probus.  army,  and  patriotic  and  enlarged  in  his  views. 
He  reigned  six  years,  and  won  a  fame  equal  to  that  of  the 
ancient  heroes.  He  restored  peace  and  order  in  every 
province  of  the  empire  ;  he  broke  the  power  of  the  Sar- 
matian  tribes  ;  he  secured  the  alliance  of  the  Gothic  na 
tion  ;  he  drove  the  Isaurians  to  their  strongholds  among 
the  mountains  ;  he  chastised  the  rebellious  cities  of  Egypt ; 
he  delivered  Gaul  from  the  Germanic  barbarians,  who 
again  inundated  the  empire  on  the  death  of  Aurelian  ;  he 
drove  back  the  Franks  into  their  morasses  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Rhine  ;  he  vanquished  the  Burgundians,  who  had 
wandered  in  quest  of  booty  from  the  banks  of  the  Oder ; 
he  defeated  the  Lygii,  a  fierce  tribe  from  the  frontiers  of 
Silesia,  and  took  their  chieftain  Semno  alive  ;  he  passed  the 
Rhine  and  pursued  his  victories  to  the  Elbe,  exacting  a  trib 
ute  of  corn,  cattle,  and  horses,  from  the  defeated  Germans  ; 
he  even  erected  a  bulwark  against  their  future  encroach 
ments —  a  stone  wall  of  two  hundred  miles  in  length,  across 
valleys  and  hills  and  rivers,  from  the  Danube  to  the  Rhine 
—  a  feeble  defense  indeed,  but  such  as  to  excite  the  won 
der  of  his  age  ;  he,  moreover,  dispersed  the  captive  barba 
rians  throughout  the  provinces,  who  were  afterward  armed 
in  defense  of  the  empire,  and  whose  brethren  were  per 
suaded  to  make  settlements  with  them,  so  that,  at  length, 
"  there  was  not  left  in  all  the  provinces,"  says  Gibbon,  "  a 
hostile  barbarian,  a  tyrant,  or  even  a  robber." 

After  having  destroyed  four  hundred  thousand  barba 
rians,  the  victor  returned  to  Rome,  and,  like  Aurelian,  cel 
ebrated  his  successes  in  one  of  those  gorgeous  triumphs  to 
which  modern  nations  have  no  parallel.  Then  he  again, 
like  the  conqueror  of  Zenobia,  mounted  the  Pisgah  of 
hope,  and  descried  the  Saturnian  ages  which,  in  his  vision 


CHAP.  XL]  The  Reign  of  Diocletian.  457 

of  Peace,  he  fancied  were  to  follow  his  victories.  "Respub- 
lica  orbis  terrarum,  ubique  secura,  non  arma  fabricabit. 
Boves  habebuntur  aratro  ;  equus  nasciter  ad  pacem.  Nulla 
erunt  bella;  nulla  captivitas.  JEternos  thesauros  haberet 
Romana  respublica."  But  scarcely  had  the  paeans  escaped 
him,  before,  in  his  turn,  he  was  assassinated  in  a  mutiny  of 
his  own  troops  —  a  man  of  virtue  and  abilities,  although 
his  austere  temper  insensibly,  under  military  power,  sub 
sided  into  tyranny  and  cruelty. 

Without  the  approbation  of  the  Senate,  the  soldiers 
elected  a  new  emperor,  and  he  too  was  a  hero.  Carus  had 
scarcely  assumed  the  purple,  A.  D.  282,  before  he  marched 
against  the  Persians,  through  Thrace  and  Asia  Minor,  in 
the  midst  of  winter,  and  the  ambassadors  of  the  Per 
sian  king  found  the  new  emperor  of  the  world  seated  on 
the  grass,  at  a  frugal  dinner  of  bacon  and  pease,  in  that 
severe  simplicity  which  afterward  marked  the  early  suc 
cessors  of  Mohammed.  But  before  he  could  carry  his 
victorious  arms  across  the  Tigris,  he  suddenly  died  in  his 
tent,  struck,  as  some  think,  by  lightning.  His  son  Carinus 
was  unworthy  of  the  throne  to  which  he  succeeded,  and 
his  reign  is  chiefly  memorable  for  the  magnificence  of 
his  games  and  festivals.  His  reign,  and  that  of  his  brother 
Numerian,  was  however  short,  and  a  still  greater  man  than 
any  who  had  mounted  the  throne  of  the  Caesars  since 
Augustus,  took  the  helm  at  the  most  critical  period  of  Ro 
man  history,  A.  D.  285. 

This  man  was  Diocletian,  rendered  infamous  in  ecclesi 
astical  history,  as  the  most  bitter  persecutor  the 

-..-..  11  •      i  i  •     ,        Diocletian. 

Christians  ever  had  ;  a  man  of  obscure  birth, 
yet  of  most  distinguished  abilities,  and  virtually  the  founder 
of  a  new  empire.  He  found  it  impossible  to  sustain  the 
public  burdens  in  an  age  so  disordered  and  disorganized, 
when  every  province  was  menaced  by  the  barbarians,  and 
he  associated  with  himself  three  colleagues  who  had  won 
fame  in  the  wars  of  Aurelian  and  Carus,  and  all  of  whom 


458  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

had  rendered  substantial  services  —  Galerius,  Maximian, 
and  Constantius.  These  four  Csesars,  alive  to  the  danger 
which  menaced  the  empire,  took  up  their  residence  in 
the  distant  provinces.  They  were  all  great  generals ; 
and  they  won  great  victories  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine 
and  the  Danube,  in  Africa  and  Egypt,  in  Persia  and  Ar 
menia.  Their  lives  were  spent  in  the  camp ;  but  care, 
vexation,  and  discontent  pursued  them.  The  barbarians 
were  continually  beaten,  but  they  continually  advanced. 
Their  progress  reminds  one  of  the  rising  tide  on  a  stormy 
and  surging  beach.  Wave  after  wave  breaks  upon  the 
shore,  recedes,  returns,  and  nothing  can  stop  the  gradual 
advance  of  the  waters.  So  in  the  hundred  years  after 
Gallienus,  wave  after  wave  of  barbaric  invasion  constantly 
appeared,  receded,  returned,  with  added  strength.  The 
heroic  emperors  were  uniformly  victors  ;  but  their  victories 
were  in  vain.  They  were  perpetually  reconquering  rebel 
lious  provinces,  or  putting  down  usurpers,  or  punishing  the 
barbarians,  who  acquired  strength  after  every  defeat,  and 
were  more  and  more  insatiable  in  their  demands,  and  un 
relenting  in  their  wills.  They  were  determined  to  con 
quer,  and  the  greatest  generals  of  the  Roman  empire  dur 
ing  four  hundred  years  could  not  subdue  them,  although 
they  could  beat  them. 

The    empire   is  again   united   under  Constantine,   after 
bloody   civil   wars,  A.   I).   324,  thirty-four  years 

Constantine.        „         Vv.      ,  •      i    tl    •««:«.•• 

after  Diocletian  had  divided  his  power  and  prov 
inces  with  his  associates.  He  renews  the  war  against  the 
Goths  and  Sarmatians,  severely  chastises  them  as  well  as 
other  enemies  of  Rome,  and  dies  leaving  the  empire  to  his 
son,  unequal  to  the  task  imposed  upon  him.  The  in 
glorious  reigns  of  Constantius  and  Gallus  only  enabled  the 
barbarians  to  renew  their  strength.  They  are  signally 
defeated  by  the  Emperor  Julian,  A.  D.  360,  who  alone  sur 
vives  of  all  the  heirs  of  Constantius  Chlorus.  The  studious 
Julian,  who  was  supposed  to  be  a  mere  philosopher,  proves 


CHAP,  xi.]  Valentinian  and  Valens.  459 

himself  to  be  one  of  the  most  warlike  of  all  the  emperors. 
He  repulses  the  Alemanni,  defeats  the  Franks,  delivers 
Gaul,  and  carries  the  Roman  eagles  triumphantly  beyond 
the  Rhine.  His  victories  delay  the  ruin  of  the  empire  ; 
they  do  not  result  in  the  conquest  of  Germany,  and  he 
dies,  mortally  wounded,  not  by  a  German  spear,  but  by 
the  javelin  of  a  Persian  horseman,  beyond  the  Tigris,  in 
an  unsuccessful  enterprise  against  Sapor,  A.  D.  363. 

After  his  death  the  ravages  of  the  barbarians  became 
still  more  fearful.  The  Alemanni  invade  Gaul,  Ne^inva-^ 
A.  D.  365,  the  Persians  recover  Armenia,  the  barians. 
Burgundians  appear  upon  the  Rhine,  the  Saxons  attack 
Britain,  and  spread  themselves  from  the  Wall  of  Antoninus 
to  the  shores  of  Kent,  the  Goths  prepare  for  another  inva 
sion  ;  in  Africa  there  is  a  great  revolt  under  Firmus.  The 
empire  is  shaken  to  its  centre. 

Valentinian,  a  soldier  of  fortune,  and  an   able  general, 
now  wears  the  imperial  purple.     Like  Diocletian,  he  finds 
himself  unable  to  bear  the   burdens   of  his    throne.     He 
elects  an  associate,  divides  the  empire,  and  gives  to  Valens 
the  eastern  provinces.     All  idea  of  reigning  in  peace,  and 
giving  the  reins  to  pleasure,  has  vanished  from  the  imperial 
mindr    The  office  of  emperor  demands  the  severest  virtues 
and  the  sternest  qualities  and  the   most  incessant  labors. 
"  Uneasy  sits  the  head    that   wears    a   crown,"  can  now 
be   said  of  all   the  later  emperors.     The  day  is   past  for 
enjoyment  or  for  pomp.     The  emperor's  presence  is  re 
quired  here  and  there.     Valentinian  rules  with  vigor,  and 
gains  successes   over  the    barbarians.     He  is  one   of  the 
great  men  of  the  day.     He  reserves  to  himself  the  western 
provinces,  and  fixes  his  seat  at  Milan,  but  cannot  preserve 
tranquillity,  and  dies  in  a  storm  of  wrath,  by  the  bursting 
of  a  blood-vessel,  while  reviling    the   ambassadors  of  the 
Quadi,  A.  D.  375,  at  the  age  of  fifty-four. 

His  brother,  Valens,  Emperor  of  the  East,  had  neither 
his  talents  nor  energy  ;  and  it  was  his  fate  to  see  the  first 


460  The  Fall  of  the  Umpire.  [CHAP.  XL 

great  successful  inroads  of  the  Goths.    For  thirty  years  the 
Disasters  of    Romans  had  secured  their  frontiers,  and  the  Goths 


jia(j  extended  their  dominions.  Hermanric,  the 
first  historic  name  of  note  among  them,  ruled  over  the 
entire  nation,  and  had  won  a  series  of  brilliant  victories 
over  other  tribes  of  barbarians  after  he  was  eighty  years 
of  age.  His  dominions  extended  from  the  Danube  to  the 
Baltic,  including  the  greater  part  of  Germany  and  Scythia. 
In  the  year  366  his  subjects,  tempted  by  the  civil  discords 
which  Procopius  occasioned,  invaded  Thrace,  but  were  re 
sisted  by  the  generals  of  Vaiens.  The  aged  Hermanric 
was  exasperated  by  the  misfortune,  and  made  preparations 
for  a  general  war,  while  the  emperor  himself  invaded  the 
Gothic  territories.  For  three  years  the  war  continued, 
with  various  success,  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube.  Her 
manric  intrusted  the  defense  of  his  country  to  Athanaric, 
who  was  defeated  in  a  bloody  battle,  and  a  hollow  peace 
was  made  with  Victor  and  Arintheus,  the  generals  of 
Vaiens.  The  Goths  remained  in  tranquillity  for  six  years, 
until,  driven  by  the  Scythians,  who  emerged  in  vast  num 
bers  from  the  frozen  regions  of  the  north,  they  once  more 
advanced  to  the  Danube  and  implored  the  aid  of  Vaiens.1 
The  prayers  of  the  Goths  were  answered,  and  they  were 
transported  across  the  Danube  —  a  suicidal  act  of  the  em 
peror,  which  imported  two  hundred  thousand  warriors,  with 
their  wives  and  children,  into  the  Roman  territories.  The 
Goths  retained  their  arms  and  their  greed,  and  pretended 
to  settle  peaceably  in  the  province  of  Mcesia.  But  they 
were  restless  and  undisciplined  barbarians,  and  it  required 
the  greatest  adroitness  to  manage  them  in  their  new  abodes. 
They  were  insolent  and  unreasonable  in  their  demands  and 
expectations,  while  the  ministers  of  the  emperor  were  op 
pressive  and  venal.  Difficulties  soon  arose,  and,  too  late, 
it  was  seen  by  the  emperor  that  he  had  introduced  most 
dangerous  enemies  into  the  heart  of  the  empire. 

1  See  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  b.  xxi.,  from  which  Gibbon  has  chiefly  drawn 
his  narratives. 


CTIAP.  XL]  Death  of  Valms.  461 

The  great   leader  of  these   Goths  was  Fritigern,  who 
soon  kindled  the  flames  of  war.    He  united  under  Fritigern, 

leader  of  the 

his  standard  all  the  various  tribes  of  his  nation,  Goths. 
increased  their  animosities,  and  led  them  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Danube.  There  they  were  attacked  by  the  lieutenants 
of  Valens,  and  a  battle  was  fought  without  other  result 
than  that  of  checking  for  a  time  the  Gothic  progress.  But 
only  for  a  time.  The  various  tribes  of  barbarians,  under 
the  able  generalship  of  Fritigern,  whose  cunning  was 
equal  to  his  bravery,  advanced  to  the  suburbs  of  Hadrian- 
ople.  Under  the  walls  of  that  city  was  fought  the  most 
disastrous  battle,  A.  P.  378,  to  the  imperial  cause  which  is 
recorded  in  the  annals  of  Roman  history.  The  emperor 
himself  was  slain  with  two  thirds  of  his  whole  Death  of  the 

.  Emperor 

army,  while  the  remainder  fled  in  consternation,  vaiens. 
Sixty  thousand  infantry  and  six  thousand  cavalry  were 
stretched  in  death  upon  the  bloody  field  —  one  third  more 
than  at  the  fatal  battle  of  Cannae.  The  most  celebrated 
orator  of  the  day,  though  a  Pagan,1  pronounced  a  funeral 
oration  on  the  vanquished  army,  and  attributed  the  catas 
trophe,  not  to  the  cowardice  of  the  legions,  but  the  anger 
of  the  gods.  "  The  fury  of  the  Goths,"  says  St.  Jerome, 
"  extended  to  all  creatures  possessed  of  life  :  the  beasts  of 
the  field,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  fishes  of  the  sea." 
The  victors,  intoxicated  with  their  first  great  success,  in 
vested  Hadrianople,  where  were  deposited  enormous  riches. 
But  they  were  unequal  to  the  task  of  taking  so  strong  a 
city ;  and  when  the  inhabitants  aroused  themselves  in  a 
paroxysm  of  despair,  they  raised  the  siege  and  departed  to 
ravage  the  more  unprotected  West.  Laden  with  spoils, 
they  retired  to  the  western  boundaries  of  Thrace,  and 
thence  scattered  their  forces  to  the  confines  of  Italy.  From 
the  shores  of  the  Bosphorus  to  the  Julian  Alps  nothing 
was  to  be  seen  but  conflagration  and  murders  and  devasta 
tions.  Churches  were  turned  into  stables,  palaces  were 

i  Libanius  of  Antioch. 


462  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

burned,  works  of  priceless  value  were  destroyed,  the  relics 
of  martyrs  were  desecrated,  the  most  fruitful  provinces  were 
overrun,  the  population  was  decimated,  the  land  was  over 
grown  with  forests,  cultivation  was  suspended,  and  despair 
and  fear  seized  the  minds  of  all  classes.  So  great  was  the 
misfortune  of  the  Illyrian  provinces  that  they  never  after 
ward  recovered,  and  for  ten  centuries  only  supplied  mate 
rials  for  roving  robbers.  The  empire  never  had  seen  such 
a  day  of  calamity. 

This    melancholy  state  of  affairs,   so  desperate  and  so 
Desperate       general,  demanded  a  deliverer  and  a  hero  ;  but 

condition  Of          ,  ,  T 

the  Romans,  where  was  a  hero  to  be  found?  .Nothing  but 
transcendent  ability  could  now  arrest  the  overthrow.  Who 
should  succeed  to  the  vacant  throne  of  Valens  ? 

The  Emperor  Gratian,  who  wielded  the  sceptre  of  Val- 
entinian  in  the  West,  in  this  alarming  crisis,  cast 

Theodosius.  '  . ' 

his  eyes  upon  an  exile,  whose  rather  had  unjustly 
suffered  death  under  his  own  sanction  three  years  before. 
This  man  was  Theodosius,  then  living  in  modest  retire 
ment  on  his  farm  in  Spain,  near  Valladolid,  as  unambitious 
as  David  among  his  sheep,  as  contented  as  Cincinnatus  at 
the  plough.  Great  deliverers  are  frequently  selected  from 
the  most  humble  positions  ;  but  no  world  hero,  in  ancient 
or  modern  times,  is  more  illustrious  than  Theodosius  for 
modesty  and  magnanimity  united  with  great  abilities.  No 
ms  charac-  man  is  dearer  to  the  Church  than  he,  both  for  his 

terandillus-  .  ,   .  .         .  „,,  -ni /• 

trious  deeds,  services  and  his  virtues.  The  eloquent  Fiddlier 
has  emblazoned  his  fame,  as  Bossuet  has  painted  the  Prince 
of  Condd.  Even  Gibbon  lays  aside  his  sneers  to  praise 
this  great  Christian  Emperor,  although  his  character  was 
not  free  from  stains.  He  modestly  but  readily  accepted 
the  vacant  sceptre  and  the  conduct  of  the  Gothic,  war.  He 
was  thirty-three  years  of  age,  in  the  pride  of  his  strength, 
and  well  instructed  in  liberal  pursuits.  No  better  choice 
could  have  been  made  by  Gratian.  He  was  as  prudent  as 
Fabius,  as  magnanimous  as  Richard,  as  persevering  as 


CHAP.  XL]  Glory  of  Theodosius.  463 

Alfred,  as  comprehensive  as  Charlemagne,  as  beneficent  as 
Henry  IV.,  as  full  of  resources  as  Frederic  II.  One  of 
the  greatest  of  all  the  emperors,  and  the  last  great  man 
who  swayed  the  sceptre  of  Trajan  his  ancestor,  his  reign 
cannot  but  be  too  highly  commended,  living  in  such  an 
age,  exposed  to  so  many  dangers,  invested  with  so  many 
difficulties.  He  was  the  last  flickering  light  of  the  expiring 
monarchy,  beloved  and  revered  by  all  classes  of  his  sub 
jects.  "  The  vulgar  gazed  with  admiration  on  the  manly 
beaut}'  of  his  face  and  the  graceful  majesty  of  his  person, 
which  they  were  pleased  to  compare  with  the  pictures  and 
medals  of  the  Emperor  Trajan  ;  while  intelligent  observers 
discovered,  in  the  qualities  of  the  heart  and  understanding, 
a  more  important  resemblance  to  the  best  and  greatest  of 
the  Roman  emperors."  * 

Mr.  Long,  of  Oxford,  in  a  fine  notice  of  Theodosius, 
thinks  that  the  praises  of  Gibbon  are  extravagant,  and  that 
the  emperor  was  probably  a  voluptuary  and  a  persecutor. 
But  Gibbon  is  not  apt  to  praise  the  favorites  of  the  Church. 
Tillemont  presents  him  in  the  same  light  as  Gibbon.2  A 
man  who  could  have  submitted  to  such  a  penance  as  Am 
brose  imposed  for  the  slaughter  of  Thessalonica,  could  not 
have  been  cast  in  a  different  mould  from  old  David  him 
self.  For  my  part  I  admire  his  character  and  his  deeds. 

Soon  as  he  was  invested  with  the  purple,  he  gave  his 
undivided  energies  to  the  great  task  intrusted  to  Defeat  of  the 
him  ;  but  he  never  succeeded  in  fully  revenging  Goths- 
the  battle  of  Hadrianople,  which  was  one  of  the  decisive 
battles  of  the  world  in  its  ultimate  effects.  He  had  the 
talents  and  the  energy  and  the  prudence,  but  he  was  beset 
with  impossibilities.  Still,  he  staved  off  ruin  for  a  time. 
The  death  of  Fritigern  unchained  the  passions  of  the  bar 
barians,  and  they  would  have  been  led  to  fresh  revolts  had 
they  not  submitted  to  the  authority  of  Athanaric,  whom 
the  emperor  invited  to  his  capital  and  feasted  at  his  table, 

1  Gibbon,  chap.  xxvi.  2  Tillemont,  Hist,  des  Emp.,  vol.  v. 


464  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

and  astonished  by  his  riches  and  glory.  The  Visigoths, 
won  by  the  policy  or  courtesy  of  Theodosius,  became  sub 
jects  of  the  empire.  The  Ostrogoths,  who  had  retired 
from  the  provinces  of  the  Danube  four  years  before,  re 
turned  recruited  with  a  body  of  Huns,  and  crossed  the 
Danube  to  assail  the  Roman  army,  but  were  defeated  by 
Theodosius  ;  and  a  treaty  was  made  with  them,  by  which 
they  were  settled  in  Phrygia  and  Lydia.  Forty  thousand 
of  them  were  kept  in  the  service  of  the  emperor  ;  but  they 
were  doubtful  allies,  as  subsequent  events  proved,  even  in 
the  lifetime  of  the  magnanimous  emperor.1 

Theodosius  died  at  Milan  in  the  arms  of  Ambrose,  A.  D. 
Honorius  395,  and  with  his  death  the  real  drama  of  the 
dius.  fall  of  Rome  begins.  His  empire  was  divided  be 

tween  his  two  sons,  Honorius  and  Arcadius,  who  were  un 
worthy  or  unequal  to  maintain  their  great  inheritance. 
The  barbarians,  released  from  the  restraint  which  the  fear 
of  Theodosius  imposed,  recommenced  their  combinations 
and  their  ravages,  while  the  soldiers  of  the  empire  were 
dispirited  and  enervated.  About  this  time  they  threw 
away  their  defensive  armor,  not  able  to  bear  the  weight 
of  the  cuirass  and  the  helmet  ;  and  even  the  heavy  weapons 
of  their  ancestors,  the  short  sword  and  the  pilum,  were 
supplanted  by  the  bow,  —  a  most  remarkable  retrograde 
in  military  art.  Without  defensive  armor,  not  even  the 
shield,  they  were  exposed  to  the  deadly  missiles  of  their 
foes,  and  fled  at  the  first  serious  attacks,  especially  of 
cavalry,  in  which  the  Goths  and  Huns  excelled. 

History  has  taken  but  little  notice  of  the  leaders  of  the 


,  king    various  tribes  of  barbarians  until  Alaric  appeared, 

of  the  Visi 

goths.  the  leader  of  the  Visigoths,  the  able  successor  of 

Fritigern.  He  belonged  to  the  second  noblest  family  of  his 
nation,  and  first  appears  in  history  as  a  general  of  the 
Gothic  auxiliaries  in  the  war  of  Theodosius  against  Euge- 
nius,  A.  D.  394.  In  396,  stimulated  by  anger  or  ambition, 

1  Zosimus,  1.  4. 


CHAP  xi.]  Successes  of  Alaric.  465 

or  the  instigation  of  Rufinus,1  he  invaded  Greece  at  the 
head  of  a  powerful  body,  and  devastated  the  country.  He 
descended  from  the  plains  of  Macedonia  and  Thessaly,  and 
entered  the  classic  land,  which  for  a  long  time  had  escaped 
the  ravages  of  war,  through  the  pass  of  Thermopylas. 
Degenerate  soldiers,  half  armed,  now  defended  the  narrow 
passage  where  three  hundred  heroes  had  once  arrested  the 
march  of  the  Persian  hosts.  But  Greece  was  no  longer 
Greece.  The  soldiers  fled  as  Alaric  advanced,  and  the 
fertile  fields  of  Phocis  and  Boeotia  were  at  once  covered 
with  hostile  and  cruel  barbarians,  who  massacred  the  men 
and  ravished  the  women  in  all  the  villages  through  which 
they  passed.  Athens  purchased  her  preservation  by  an 
enormous  ransom.  Corinth,  Argos,  Sparta,  yielded  with 
out  a  blow,  but  did  not  escape  the  fate  of  vanquished 
cities.  Their  palaces  were  burned,  their  works  of  art  de 
stroyed,  their  women  subjected  to  indignities  which  were 
worse  than  death,  and  their  families  were  enslaved.2 

Only  one  hope  remained  to  the  feeble  and  intimidated 
Arcadius,  and  that  was  the  skill  and  courage  of  Succe8Sesof 
Stilicho,  by  birth  a  Vandal,  but  who  had  risen  in  the  Goth8' 
the  imperial  service  until  he  was  virtually  intrusted  by  The- 
odosius  with  the  guardianship  of  his  sons  and  of  the  empire. 
He  was  the  lieutenant  of  Honorius,  who  had  espoused  his 
daughter,  but  summoned  by  the  dangers  of  Arcadius,  he  ad 
vanced  to  repulse  the  invaders  of  Greece,  who  had  not  met 
with  any  resistance  from  Thermopylae  to  Corinth.  A  des 
perate  campaign  followed  in  the  woody  country  where  Pan 
and  the  Dryads  were  fabled  to  reside  in  the  olden  times. 
The  Romans  prevailed,  and  Alaric  was  in  imminent  peril  of 
annihilation,  but  was  saved  by  the  too  confident  spirit  of 
Stilicho,  and  his  indulgence  in  the  pleasures  of  the  degen 
erate  Greeks.  He  effected  his  release  by  piercing  the  lines 
of  his  besiegers  and  performing  a  rapid  march  to  the  Gulf 
of  Corinth,  where  he  embarked  his  soldiers,  his  captives, 

i  Socrates,  Eccks.  Hist.,  vii.  10.  2  Gibbon,  chap.  xxx. 


466  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

and  his  spoil,  and  reached  Epirus  in  safety,  from  which  he 
effected  a  treaty  with  the  ministers  of  Arcadius,  which  he 
never  intended  to  keep,  and  was  even  made  master-general 
of  Eastern  Illyricum.  Successful  war  brings  irresistible 
Sclat,  equally  among  barbarians  and  civilized  nations. 
There  is  no  fame  like  the  glory  of  a  warrior.  Poets  and 
philosophers  drop  their  heads  in  the  presence  of  great 
military  chieftains  ;  and  those  people  who  rest  their  claims 

to  the  gratitude  or  the  admiration  of  the  world  on  their  intel- 

& 

lectual  and  moral  superiority,  are  among  the  first  to  yield 
precedence  to  conquering  generals,  whether  they  are  ig 
norant,  or  unscrupulous,  or  haughty,  or  ambitious.  The 
names  of  warriors  descend  from  generation  to  generation, 
while  the  benefactors  of  mind  are  forgotten  or  depreciated. 
Who  can  wonder  at  military  ambition  when  success  in  war 
has  been  uniformly  attended  with  such  magnificent  re 
wards,  from  the  times  of  Pompey  and  Csesar  to  those  of 
Marl  borough  and  Napoleon  ? 

The  Gothic  robber  and  murderer  was  rewarded  by  his 
nation  with  all  the  power  and  glory  it  could  bestow.  He 
was  made  a  king,  arid  was  assured  of  unlimited  support 
in  all  his  future  enterprises. 

He  cast  his  eyes  on  Italy,  for  many  generations  undefiled 
Danger  of  ^7  the  presence  of  a  foreign  enemy,  and  enriched 
itaiy.  with  the  spoils  of  three  hundred  triumphs.  He 

marched  from  Thessalonica,  through  Pannonia  to  the  Ju 
lian  Alps  ;  passed  through  the  defiles  of  those  guarded 
mountains,  and  appeared  before  the  walls  of  Aquileia,  one 
of  the  most  important  cities  of  Northern  Italy,  enriched  by 
the  gold  mines  of  the  neighboring  Alps,  and  a  prosperous 
trade  with  the  Illyrians  and  Pannonians.  Here  the  great 
Julius  had  made  his  head-quarters  when  he  made  war  upon 
Illyria,  and  here  the  younger  Constantine  was  slain.  It 
was  the  capital  of  Venetia,  and  had  the  privilege  of  a  mint. 
It  was  the  ninth  city  of  the  whole  empire,  inferior  in  Italy 
to  Rome,  Milan,  and  Capua  alone.  It  was  situated  on  a 


CHAP.  XL]  The  Roman   General  Stilicho.  467 

plain,  and  was  strongly  fortified  with  walls  and  towers. 
And  it  seems  to  have  resisted  the  attacks  of  Alaric,  who 
retired  to  the  Danube  for  reinforcements  for  a  new  cam 
paign. 

The  Emperor  Honorius,  weak,  timid,  and  defenseless  at 
Milan,  was  overwhelmed  with  fear,  and  implored  stiiichocom- 

,.  ,.  .  n  i  •  i'ii  mands  the 

the  immediate  assistance  ot  his  only  reliable  gen-  Romans, 
eral.  Stilicho  responded  to  the  appeal,  and  appreciated  the 
danger.  He  summoned  from  every  quarter  the  subjects  or 
the  allies  of  the  emperor.  The  fortresses  of  the  Rhine  were 
abandoned  ;  the  legions  were  withdrawn  from  Britain  ;  the 
Alani  were  enlisted  as  auxiliaries,  and  Stilicho  advanced  to 
the  relief  of  his  fugitive  sovereign,  who  had  fled  from  Milan 
to  a  town  in  Piedmont,  just  in  time  to  rescue  him  from 
the  grasp  of  Alaric,  who,  in  his  turn,  became  besieged  by 
the  troops  which  issued  from  all  the  passes  of  the  Alps. 
The  Goths  were  attacked  in  their  intrenchments  at  Pol- 
lentia,  and  were  obliged  to  retreat,  leaving  the  spoils  of 
Corinth  and  Argos,  and  even  the  wife  of  Alaric.  The 
poet  Claudian  celebrated  the  victory  as  greater  than  even 
that  achieved  by  Marius  over  the  Cimbri  and  Teutones. 
The  defeated  Goth,  however,  rose  superior  to  misfortune 
and  danger.  He  escaped  with  the  main  body  of  his 
cavalry,  broke  through  the  passes  of  the  Apennines,  and 
spread  devastation  on  the  fruitful  fields  of  Tuscany,  and 
was  resolved  to  risk  another  battle  for  the  great  prize 
which  he  coveted  —  the  possession  of  Rome  itself.  He 
was,  however,  foiled  by  Stilicho,  who  purchased  the  retreat 
of  the  enemy  for  forty  thousand  pounds  of  gold.  But  the 
Goths  respected  no  treaties.  Scarcely  had  they  crossed 
the  Po,  before  their  leader  resolved  to  seize  Verona,  which 
commanded  the  passes  of  the  Rhaetian  Alps.  Here  he  was 
again  attacked  by  Stilicho,  and  suffered  losses  equal  to 
those  incurred  at  Pollentia,  and  was  obliged  to  retreat  from 
Italy,  A.  D.  404. 

The  conqueror  was  hailed  with  joy  and  gratitude  ;  too 


468  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

soon  succeeded  by  envy  and  calumny,  as  is  usual  with  ben- 
infatuation  efactors  in  corrupt  times.  The  retreat  of  Alaric 

of  the  ,     .  . 

Romans.  was  regarded  as  a  complete  deliverance  ;  and  the 
Roman  people  abandoned  themselves  to  absurd  rejoicings, 
gladiatorial  shows,  and  triumphant  processions.  In  the 
royal  chariots,  side  by  side  with  the  emperor,  Stilicho  was 
seated,  and  the  procession  passed  under  a  triumphal  arch 
which  commemorated  the  complete  destruction  of  the 
Goths.  For  the  last  time,  the  amphitheatre  of  Rome  was 
polluted  with  the  blood  of  gladiators,  for  Honorius,  ex 
horted  by  the  poet  Claudian,  abolished  forever  the  inhu 
man  sacrifices. 

Yet  scarcely  was  Italy  delivered  from  the  Goths,  before 
New  hordes    an    irruption   of  Vandals,    Snevi,    and    Burmin- 

of  barba-  r 

rians.  dians,  under  Kodogast   or  Khadagast,  two  hun 

dred  thousand  in  number  of  fighting  men,  beside  an  equal 
number  of  women  and  children,  issued  from  the  coast  of 
the  Baltic.  One  third  of  these  crossed  the  Alps,  the  Po, 
and  the  Apennines,  ravaged  the  cities  of  Northern  Italy, 
and  laid  siege  to  Florence,  which  was  reduced  to  its  last 
necessity,  when  the  victor  of  Pollentia  appeared  beneath 
its  walls,  with  the  last  army  which  the  empire  could  fur 
nish,  and  introduced  supplies.  Moreover,  he  surrounded 
the  enemy  in  turn  with  strong  intrenchments,  and  the  bar 
baric  host  was  obliged  to  yield.  The  leader  Rodogast  was 
beheaded,  and  the  captives  were  sold  as  slaves.  Stilicho,  a 
second  time,  had  delivered  Italy ;  but  one  hundred  thou 
sand  barbarians  still  remained  in  arms  between  the  Alps 
and  the  Apennines.  Shut  out  of  Italy,  they  invaded  Gaul, 
and  never  afterward  retreated  beyond  the  Alps.  Gaul 
was  then  one  of  the  most  cultivated  of  the  Roman  prov 
inces  ;  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  were  covered  with  farms 
and  villas,  and  peace  and  plenty  had  long  accustomed  the 
people  to  luxury  and  ease.  But  all  was  suddenly  changed, 
Deyastatiou  anc^  changed  for  generations.  The  rich  corn 
fields  and  fruitful  vineyards  became  a  desert. 


CHAP,  xi.]  The  Devastation  of  Italy.  469 

Mentz  was  destroyed  and  burned.  Worms  fell  after  an 
obstinate  siege,  and  experienced  the  same  fate.  Strasburg, 
Spires,  Rheims,  Tournay,  Arras,  Amiens,  passed  under  the 
German  yoke,  and  the  flames  of  war  spread  over  the  sev 
enteen  provinces  of  Gaul.  The  country  was  completely 
devastated,  and  all  classes  experienced  a  remorseless  rigor. 
Bishops,  senators,  and  virgins  were  alike  enslaved.  No 
retreat  was  respected,  and  no  sex  or  condition  was  spared. 
Gaul  ceased  to  exist  as  a  Roman  province. 

Italy,  however,  had  been  for  a  time  delivered,  and  by 
the  only  man  of  ability  who  remained  in  the  ser-  Assassina- 

t?  TT  •    i  MII  tion  of 

vice  of  the  emperor.  He  might  possibly  have  stiucho. 
checked  the  further  progress  of  the  Goths,  had  the  weak 
emperor  intrusted  himself  to  his  guidance.  But  imperial 
jealousy,  and  the  voice  of  faction,  removed  forever  this 
last  hope  of  Rome.  The  frivolous  Senate  which  he  had 
saved,  and  the  timid  emperor  whom  he  had  guarded,  were 
alike  demented.  The  savior  of  Italy  was  an  object  of  fear 
and  hatred,  and  the  assassin's  dagger,  which  cut  short  his 
days,  inflicted  a  fatal  and  suicidal  blow  upon  Rome  herself. 
The  Gothic  king,  in  his  distant  carnp  on  the  confines  of 
Italy,  beheld  with  undissembled  joy,  the  intrigues 


and  factions  which  deprived  the  emperor  of  his  itaiy. 
best  defender,  and  which  placed  over  his  last  army  incom 
petent  generals.  So,  hastening  his  preparations,  he  again 
descends  like  an  avalanche  upon  the  plains  of  Italy. 
Aquileia,  Altinum,  Concordia,  and  Cremona,  yielded  to 
his  arms,  and  increased  his  forces.  He  then  ravaged  the 
coasts  of  the  Adriatic  ;  and,  following  the  Flaminian  way, 
crossed  the  passes  of  the  Apennines,  ravaged  the  fertile 
plains  of  Umbria,  and  reached  without  obstruction  the  city 
which  for  six  hundred  years  had  not  been  violated  by  the 
presence  of  a  foreign  enemy.  But  Rome  was  not  what 
she  was  when  Hannibal  led  his  Africans  to  her  gates.  She 
was  surrounded  with  more  extensive  fortifications,  indeed, 
and  contained  within  her  walls,  which  were  twenty-one 


470  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  ICHAP.XI. 

miles  in  circuit,  a  large  population.  But  where  were  her 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  warriors?  Where  were 
even  the  three  armies  drawn  out  in  battle  array,  that  had 
Rome  with-  confronted  the  Carthaginian  leader  ?  She  could 

out  defend-      .  _  .  , 

ers.  boast  or  senators  who  traced  their  lineage  to  the 

Scipios  and  the  Gracchi ;  she  could  enumerate  one  thou 
sand  seven  hundred  and  eighty  palaces,  the  residence  of 
wealthy  and  proud  families,  many  of  which  were  equal  to 
a  town,  including  within  their  precincts,  markets,  hippo 
dromes,  temples,  fountains,  baths,  porticoes,  groves,  and 
aviaries  ;  she  could  tell  of  senatorial  incomes  of  four  thou 
sand  pounds  of  gold,  about  eight  hundred  thousand  dollars 
yearly,  without  computing  the  corn,  oil,  and  wine,  which 
were  equal  to  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  more  — 
men  so  rich  that  they  could  afford  to  spend  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  a  popular  festival,  and  this  at  a  time 
when  gold  was  worth  at  least  eight  times  more  than  its 
present  value  ;  she  could  point  with  pride  to  her  Christian 
saints,  one  of  whom,  the  illustrious  Paula,  the  friend  of 
St.  Jerome,  was  the  sole  proprietor  of  the  city  of  Nicopolis, 
which  Augustus  had  founded  to  commemorate  his  victory 
over  Antony  ;  she  could  count  two  millions  of  inhabitants, 
crowded  in  narrow  streets,  and  four  hundred  thousand 
pleasure-seekers  who  sought  daily  the  circus  or  the  theatre, 
and  three  thousand  public  female  dancers,  and  three  thou 
sand  singers  who  sought  to  beguile  the  hours  of  the  lazy 
rabble  who  were  fed  at  the  public  expense,  and  who,  for 
a  small  copper  coin,  could  wash  their  dirty  bodies  in  the 
marble  baths  of  Diocletian  and  Caracalla  ;  but  where  were 
her  defenders  —  where  were  her  legions  ? 

The  day  of  retribution  had  come,  and  there  was  no  es- 
Aiaric  be-  cape.  Alaric  made  no  efforts  to  storm  the  city, 
BiegesRome.  j^  quj^jj  sat  down,  and  inclosed  the  wretched 
citizens  with  a  cordon  through  which  nothing  could  force 
its  way.  He  cut  off  all  communications  with  the  country, 
intercepted  the  navigation  of  the  Tiber,  and  commanded 


CHAP.  XL]  Siege  of  Rome.  471 

the  twelve  gates.     The   city,  unprovided  for  a  siege,  and 
never  dreaming  of  such  a  calamity,  soon  felt  all  the  evils 
of  famine,  to  which  those  of  pestilence  were  added.     The 
most    repugnant    food   was    eagerly   devoured,    and    even 
mothers  are  said  to  have  tasted  the  flesh  of  their  murdered 
children.     Thousands  perished  daily  in  the  houses,  and  the 
public  sepulchres  infected  the  air.     Despair  at  last  seized 
the  haughty  citizens,  and  they  begged  the  clemency  of  the 
Gothic  king.     He  derided  the  ambassadors  who  were  sent 
to  treat,  and  insulted  them  with  rude  jests.     At   Disgraceful 
last  he  condescended  to  spare  the  lives  of  the  peo-   peace, 
pie,  on  condition  that  they  gave  up  all  their  gold  and  silver, 
all  their  precious  movables,  and  all  their  slaves  of  barbaric 
birth.      More   moderate    terms   were    afterward    granted ; 
but  the  victor  did  not  retreat  until  he  had  loaded  his  wag 
ons  with  more  wealth  and  more  liberated  captives  than  the 
Romans  had  brought  from   both   Carthage    and   Antioch. 
He  retired  to  the  fertile  fields  of  Tuscany  to  make  nego 
tiations  with  Honorius  ;  and  it  was  only  on  condition  that 
he  were  appointed    master-general  of  the  armies   of  the 
emperor,  with  an  annual  subsidy  of  corn  and  money,  and 
the  free  possession  of  the  provinces  of  Dalmatia,  Noricum, 
and  Venetia,  for  the  seat  of  his  kingdom,  that  he  would 
grant  peace  to  the  emperor,  who  had  entrenched   himself 
at   Ravenna.     These    terms   were  disregarded,  and    once 
more  Alaric  turned  his  face  to  Rome.     He  took  possession 
of  Ostia,  one   of  the    most    stupendous  works  of   Roman 
magnificence,  and  the  port  of  Rome  secured,  the  city  was 
once  again  at   his  mercy.     Again  the  Senate,  fearful  of 
famine  and  impelled  by  the  populace,  consented  to  the  de 
mands  of  the  conqueror.     He  nominated  Atticus,  prefect 
of  the  city,  emperor  instead  of  the  son  of  Theodosius,  and 
received  from  him  the  commission  of  master-general  of  the 
armies  of  the  West. 

The   new  emperor  had   a  few   days  of  prosperity,  and 
the  greater  part  of  Italy  submitted  to  his  rule,  backed  by 


472  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP,  xi 

the  Gothic  forces.  But  he  was  after  all  a  mere  puppet  in 
the  hands  of  Alaric,  who  used  him  as  a  tool,  and  threw 
him  aside  when  it  suited  his  purposes.  Atticus,  after  a 
brief  reign,  was  degraded,  and  renewed  negotiations  took 
place  between  Alaric  and  Honorius.  The  emperor,  having 
had  a  temporary  relief,  broke  finally  with  the  barbarians, 
who  held  Italy  at  their  mercy,  and  Alaric,  vindictive  and 
Alaric  takes  indignant,  once  again  set  out  for  Rome,  now  re 
solved  on  plunder  and  revenge.  In  vain  did 
the  nobles  organize  a  defense.  Cowardice  and  treachery 
opened  the  Salarian  gate.  No  Horatius  kept  the  bridge. 
No  Scipio  arose  in  the  last  extremity.  In  the  dead  of 
night  the  Gothic  trumpet  rang  unanswered  in  the  streets. 
The  Queen  of  the  World,  the  Eternal  City,  was  the  prey 
of  savage  soldiers.  For  five  days  and  nights  she  was  ex 
posed  to  every  barbarity  and  license.  Only  the  treasures 
collected  in  the  churches  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  were 
saved.  Although  the  captor  had  promised  to  spare  the 
lives  of  the  people,  a  cruel  slaughter  was  made,  and  the 
street^  were  filled  with  the  dead.  Forty  thousand  slaves 
were  let  loose  by  the  bloody  conquerors  to  gratify  their 
long-stifled  passions  of  lust  and  revenge.  The  matrons 
and  virgins  of  Rome  were  exposed  to  every  indignity,  and 
The  miseries  suffered  every  insult.  The  city  was  abandoned 
Romans.  to  pillage,  and  the  palaces  were  stripped  even  of 
their  costly  furniture.  Sideboards  of  massive  silver,  and 
variegated  wardrobes  of  silk  and  purple,  were  piled  upon 
the  wagons.  The  works  of  art  were  destroyed  or  injured. 
Beautiful  vases  were  melted  down  for  the  plate.  The 
daughters  and  wives  of  senatorial  families  became  slaves  — 
such  as  were  unable  to  purchase  their  ransom.  Italian 
fugitives  thronged  the  shores  of  Africa  and  Syria,  begging 
daily  bread.  They  were  scattered  over  various  provinces, 
as  far  as  Constantinople  and  Jerusalem.  The  whole  em 
pire  was  filled  with  consternation.  The  news  made  the 
tongue  of  old  St.  Jerome  to  cleave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth 


CHAP.  XL]  Ruin  of  Italy.  473 

in  his  cell  at  Bethlehem,  which  even  was  besieged  with  beg 
gars.  "  For  twenty  years,"  cried  he,  "  Roman  blood  has 
been  flowing  from  Constantinople  to  the  Julian  Alps. 
Scythia,  Thrace,  Macedonia,  Dacia,  Epirus,  Dalmatia, 
Achaia,  the  two  Pannonias,"  yea,  he  might  have  added, 
Gaul,  Britain,  Spain,  and  Italy,  "  all  belong  to  the  barba 
rians.  Sorrow,  misery,  desolation,  despair,  death,  are 
everywhere.  What  is  to  be  seen  but  one  universal  ship 
wreck  of  humanity,  from  which  there  is  no  escape  save  on 
the  plank  of  penitence."  The  same  bitter  despair  came 
from  St.  Augustine.  The  end  of  the  world  was  supposed 
to  be  at  hand,  and  the  great  churchmen  of  the  age  found 
consolation  only  in  the  doctrine  that  the  second  coming  of 
our  Lord  was  at  hand  to  establish  a  new  dispensation  of 
peace  and  righteousness  on  the  earth,  or  to  appear  as  a 
stern  and  final  judge  amid  the  clouds  of  heaven. 

After  six  days  the  Goths  evacuated  the  city  they  had 
despoiled,  and  advanced  along  the  Appian  way  The  Goths  in 
into  the  southern  provinces  of  Italy,  destroying  Italy" 
ruthlessly  all  who  opposed  their  inarch,  and  loading  them 
selves  with  still  greater  spoils.  The  corn,  wine,  and  oil 
of  the  country  were  consumed  within  the  barbarian  camp, 
and  the  beautiful  villas  of  the  coast  of  Campania  were  de 
stroyed  or  plundered.  The  rude  inhabitants  of  Scythia  and 
Germany  stretched  their  limbs  under  the  shade  of  the 
Italian  palm-trees,  and  compelled  the  beautiful  daughters 
of  the  proud  senators  of  the  fallen  capital  to  attend  on 
them  like  slaves,  while  they  quaffed  the  old  Falernian 
wines  from  goblets  of  gold  and  gems.  Nothing  arrested 
the  career  of  the  Goths.  Their  victorious  leader  now  med 
itated  the  invasion  of  Africa,  but  died  suddenly  after  a 
short  illness,  and  the  world  was  relieved,  for  a  while,  of 
a  mighty  fear. 

His  successor  Adolphus  suspended  the  operations  of  war, 
and    negotiated    with    the   emperor   a  treaty  of  Ravages  in 
peace,  and  even  enlisted  under  his  standard  to  laceu. 


474  The  Fall  of  the  Umpire.  [CHAP.  XL 

chastise  his  enemies  in  Gaul.  But  the  oppressed  provin 
cials  were  cruelly  ravaged  by  their  pretended  friends,  who 
occupied  the  cities  of  Narbonne,  Toulouse,  and  Bordeaux, 
and  spread  from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Ocean.  Adol- 
phus  espoused  Placidia,  a  sister  of  Honorius,  to  the  in 
tense  humiliation  of  the  ministers  of  Honorius.  But  the 
marriage  proved  fortunate  for  the  empire,  and  the  Goths 
settled  down  in  the  fertile  provinces  they  had  conquered, 
and  established  a  Gothic  kingdom.  Among  the  treasures 
which  the  Goths  carried  to  Narbonne,  was  a  famous  dish 
of  solid  gold,  weighing  five  hundred  pounds,  ornamented 
with  precious  stones,  and  exquisitely  engraved  with  the 
figures  of  men  and  animals.  But  this  precious  specimen 
of  Roman  luxury  was  not  to  be  compared  with  the  table 
formed  from  a  single  emerald,  encircled  with  three  rows 
of  pearls,  supported  by  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet 
of  gems  and  massive  gold,  which  was  found  in  the  Gothic 
treasury  when  plundered  by  the  Arabs,  and  which  also 
had  been  one  of  the  ornaments  of  a  senatorial  palace.1 
The  favor  of  the  Franks  was,  in  after  times,  purchased 
with  this  golden  dish  by  a  Spanish  monarch,  who  stole  it 
back,  but  compensated  by  a  present  of  two  hundred  thou 
sand  pieces  of  gold,  with  which  Dagobert  founded  the 
Abbey  of  St.  Denys.2 

The  sack  of  Rome  by  the  Goths  was  followed  by  the 
New  bar-  successful  inroads  of  other  barbaric  tribes.  The 
sions.  Suevi,  the  Alans,  and  the  Vandals  invaded  Spain, 

which  for  four  hundred  years  had  been  prosperous  in  all 
the  arts  of  peace.  The  great  cities  of  Corduba,  Merida, 
Seville,  Bracara,  and  Barcelona,  testified  to  her  wealth  and 
luxury,  while  science  and  commerce  both  elevated  and 
enfeebled  the  people.  Yet  no  one  of  the  Roman  provinces 
suffered  more  severely.  Gibbon  thus  quotes  the  language 

1  This  emerald  table  was  probably  colored  glass.    It  was  valued  at  five  hun 
dred  thousand  pieces  of  gold. 

2  Gibbon,  chap.  xxx. 


CHAP.  XL] 


The  Vandals.  475 

of  a  Spanish  historian.  "  The  barbarians  exercised  an  in 
discriminate  cruelty  on  the  fortunes  of  both  Spaniards  and 
Romans,  and  ravaged  with  equal  fury  the  cities  and  the 
open  country.  Famine  reduced  the  miserable  inhabitants 
to  feed  on  the  flesh  of  their  fellow-creatures,  and  pestilence 
swept  away  a  large  portion  of  those  whom  famine  spared. 
Then  the  barbarians  fixed  their  permanent  seats  Permanent 
in  the  country  they  had  ravaged  with  fire  and  tLSSili 
sword  ;  Galicia  was  divided  between  the  Suevi  Spair 
and  the  Vandals  ;  the  Alani  were  scattered  over  the  prov 
inces  of  Carthagenia  and  Lusitania,  and  Boetica  was  al 
lotted  to  the  Vandals."  But  he  adds,  and  this  is  a  most 
impressive  fact,  "  that  the  greater  part  of  the  Spaniards 
preferred  the  condition  of  poverty  and  barbarism  to  the 
severe  oppressions  of  the  Roman  government." 

The  successors  of  Alaric,  A.  D.  419,  established  them 
selves  at  Toulouse,  forty- three  years  after  they  had  crossed 
the  Danube,  which  became  the  seat  of  the  Gothic  empire 
in  Gaul.  About  the  same  time  the  Burgundians  and  the 
Franks  obtained  a  permanent  settlement  in  that  distracted 
but  wealthy  province,  and  effected  a  ruin  of  all  that  had 
been  deemed  opulent  or  fortunate. 

Meanwhile,  Britain  had  been  left,  by  the  withdrawal  of 
the  legions,  to  the  ravages  of  Saxon  pirates,  and  ^eR^M 
the  savages  of  Caledonia.  The  island  was  irrev-  ain. 
ocably  lost  to  the  empire,  A.  n.  409,  although  it  was  forty 
years  before  the  Saxons  obtained  a  permanent  footing,  and 
secured  their  conquest. 

But  a  more  savage  chastisement  than  Rome  received 
from  the  Goths  —  the  most  powerful  and  generous  of  her 
foes  —  was  inflicted  by  the  Vandals,  whose  name  is  synony 
mous  with  all  that  is  fierce  and  revolting. 

These  barbarians  belonged  to  the  great  Teutonic  race, 
although  some  maintain  that  they  were  of  Sla-  TheVandalg 
vonic  origin.  Their  settlements  were  between 

l  Gibbon,  chap.  xxx. 


476  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XI. 

the  Elbe  and  the  Vistula  ;  and,  during  the  reign  of  Mar 
cus  Aurelius,  they  had,  with  other  tribes,  invaded  the 
Roman  world,  but  were  defeated  by  the  Roman  emperor. 
One  hundred  years  later  they  settled  in  Pannonia,  where 
they  had  a  bitter  contest  with  the  Goths.  Defeated  by 
them,  they  sought  the  protection  of  Rome,  and  enlisted  in 
the  imperial  armies.  In  406,  they  crossed  the  Rhine  and 
invaded  Gaul,  and  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  Franks 
to  resist  them.  They  advanced  to  the  very  foot  of  the 
Pyrenees,  inflicting  every  atrocity  upon  the  Celtic  and  Ro 
man  inhabitants.  Neither  age,  nor  sex,  nor  condition  was 
spared,  and  the  very  churches  were  given  to  the  flames. 
They  then  crossed  into  Spain,  A.  D.  409,  and  settled  in 
Andalusia,  and  under  its  sunny  skies  resumed  the  agri 
cultural  life  they  had  led  in  Pannonia.1  The  land  now 
wore  an  aspect  of  prosperity  ;  rich  harvests  covered  the 
plains,  while  the  hills  were  white  with  flocks.  They  seem 
to  have  lived  in  amity  with  the  Romans,  so  that  "  there 
were  found  those  who  preferred  freedom  with  poverty 
among  the  barbarians,  to  a  life  rendered  wretched  by  taxa 
tion  among  their  own  countrymen."  2  This  testimony  is 
confirmed  by  Salvian,  who  declares,  "  they  prefer  to  live 
as  freemen  under  the  guise  of  captivity,  rather  than  as 
captives  under  the  guise  of  freedom."  3  If  this  be  true, 
it  would  seem  that  the  rule  of  the  barbarians  was  preferred 
to  the  taxation  and  oppression  with  which  they  were 
ground  down  by  the  Roman  officials.  And  this  conclusion 
is  legitimate,  when  we  remember  the  indifference  and 
apathy  that  seized  the  old  inhabitants  when  the  empire  was 
seriously  threatened.  It  may  have  been  that  the  irrup 
tions  of  the  barbarians  were  not  regarded  as  so  great  a 
calamity  after  all,  if  they  should  break  the  bondage  and 
alleviate  the  misery  which  filled  the  Roman  world. 

The  Roman  government,  it  would  seem,4  would  not  tol- 

1  Sheppard's  Fatt  of  Rome,  p.  364.  2  Orosius,  vii.  41. 

8  De  Gub.  Dei,  v.  4  Sheppard,  p.  364. 


CHAP,  xi.]  Grenseric  invades  Africa.  477 

erate  the  Vandals  in  Spain,  and  intrigued  with  the  Goths, 
their  hereditary  enemies,  to  make  an  attack  upon  Succegse8  Of 
them,  perhaps  with  the  view  of  weakening  the  tbe  Vandals- 
strength  of  the  Goths  themselves,  A.  D.  416.  Wallia, 
king  of  the  Goths,  was  successful,  and  the  Vandals  were 
worried.  The  Romans  also  sent  an  army  to  reconquer 
Spain  from  their  grasp,  which  drove  the  Vandals  into 
Andalusia.  But  the  Vandals  turned  upon  their  enemies 
and  entirely  discomfited  them,  and  twenty  thousand  men 
were  left  dead  upon  the  field.  Spain  was  now  entirely  at 
the  mercy  of  these  infuriated  barbarians,  who  might  have 
peacefully  settled  had  it  not  been  for  the  jealousy  of  the 
imperial  government,  which,  in  those  days,  drew  upon  it 
self  evils  by  its  own  mismanagement.  For  two  years 
"  Vandalism "  reigned  throughout  the  peninsula,  which 
was  pillaged  and  sacked. 

The  king  of  these  Vandals   was  Genseric,  the  worthy 
rival  of  Alaric  and  Attila,  as  a  "  scourge  of  God." 
If  we  may  credit  the  writers  who  belonged  to 
the  people  whom  he   humbled,1   he  was  one  of  the  most 
hideous  monsters  ever  clothed  with  power.     He  was  am 
bitious,  subtle,  deceitful,    revengeful,  cruel,  and    passion 
ate.     But  he  was  temperate,  of  clear  vision,  and  inflexible 
purpose. 

He  cast  his  eyes  on  Africa,  the  granary  of  Rome,  and 
the  only  province  which  had  thus  far  escaped  the  The  vandals 
ravages  of  war.  In  the  hour  of  triumph,  and  in  Africa. 
the  plenitude  of  power,  he  resolved  on  leaving  Spain,  which 
he  held  by  uncertain  tenure,  since  he  was  only  an  illegiti 
mate  son  of  the  late  monarch  Gunderic,  and  founding  a 
new  kingdom  in  Africa.  It  was  rich  in  farms  and  cities, 
whose  capital,  Carthage,  had  arisen  from  her  ashes,  and 
was  once  again  the  rival  of  Rome  in  majesty  and  splendor. 
She  had  even  outgrown  Alexandria,  and  her  commerce 
was  more  flourishing  than  that  of  the  capital  of  Egypt. 

1  Procopius,  Bell.  Vand.,  i.  3. 


478  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

She  was  even  famous  for  schools  and  chairs  of  philosophy ; 
but  more  for  those  arts  which  material  prosperity  ever  pro 
duces. 

There  were,  at  that  time,  two  distinguished  generals  in 
Dissensions  the  service  of  the  empire  —  Boniface  and  JEtius, 
generals.  the  former  of  whom  was  governor  of  Africa. 
They  were,  unfortunately,  rivals,  and  their  dissensions  and 
jealousies  compromised  the  empire.  United,  they  could 
have  withstood,  perhaps,  the  torrent  which  was  about  to 
sweep  over  Africa  and  Italy.  ^JEtius  persuaded  the  emperor 
to  recall  Boniface,  while  he  advised  the  Count  to  disobey 
the  summons,  representing  it  as  a  sentence  of  death.  Bon 
iface  put  himself  in  the  attitude  of  a  rebel,  and  fearing 
the  imperial  forces,  invited  Genseric  and  his  Vandals  to 
Africa,  with  the  proposal  of  an  alliance  and  an  advantage 
ous  settlement.  Doubtless  he  was  driven  to  this  grand 
folly  by  the  intrigues  of  JEtius. 

Genseric  gladly  availed  himself  of  an  invitation  which 
held  out  to  him  the  richest  prize  in  the  empire.  With 
fifty  thousand  warriors  he  landed  on  the  coast  of  Africa, 
formed  an  alliance  with  the  Moors,  and  became  as  danger 
ous  an  ally  to  Count  Boniface,  as  Lord  Clive  was  to  the 
native  princes  of  India.  Africa  was  then  disturbed  by  the 
schism  of  the  Donatists,  and  these  fanatical  people  were 
taken  under  the  protection  of  the  Vandals.  The  Moors 
always  hated  their  Roman  masters.  With  Vandals,  Moors, 
arid  Donatists,  leagued  together,  Africa  was  in  serious  dan 
ger. 

The  landing  of  the  Vandals,  who,  of  all  barbarians,  bore 

The  vandals  the  most  terrible  name,  was  the  signal  of  head- 
invade 
Africa.          long  flight.     Consternation  seized  all  classes  of 

people.  The  gorges  and  the  caverns  of  Mount  Atlas  were 
crowded  with  fugitives.  The  Vandals  burned  the  villages 
through  which  they  marched,  and  sacked  the  cities,  and 
destroyed  the  harvests,  and  cut  down  the  trees.  The 
Moors  swelled  the  ranks  of  the  invaders,  and  indulged 


CHAI>.  XL]  Fall  of  Carthage.  479 

their  common  hatred  of  civilization  and  of  Rome.  Boni 
face,  too  late,  perceived  his  mistake,  and  turned  against 
the  common  foe  ;  but  was  defeated  in  battle,  and  forced  to 
cede  away  three  important  provinces  as  the  price  of  peace, 
A.  D.  432.  But  peace  was  not  of  long  duration.  The 
Vandals  continually  encroached  upon  more  valuable  terri 
tory.  Moreover,  they  had  been  nominally  converted  to 
Christianity,  and  were  bitter  zealots  of  the  Arian  faith,  and 
most  relentlessly  persecuted  the  Catholic  Christians  who 
adhered  to  the  Nicene  Creed. 

At  last  (439  A.  D.),  the  storm  burst  out,  and  the  world 
was    thunderstruck    with    the    intelligence    that  Gensericat 
Genseric   had   seized    and    plundered  Carthage. 
Suddenly,  without  warning,  in  a  day  looked  not  for,  this 
magnificent  city  was  plundered,  and  her  inhabitants  butch 
ered  by  the  most  faithless   and  perfidious  barbarians,  who 
trampled  out  the  dying  glories  of  the  empire.    Her  doom 
was  like  that  pronounced  upon  Tyre  and  Sidon.     The  bit 
ter  cry  which  went  up  from  the  devastated  city  proclaimed 
the  retribution  of  God  for  sins  more  hideous  than  Fate  of  the 
those  of  Antioch  or  Babylon.     Of  all  the  cities  c 
of  the   world,   Carthage  was  probably  the  wickedest  —  a 
seething  caldron  of  impurities  and  abominations,  the  home 
of  all  the  vices  which  disgraced  humanity  —  so  indecent 
and  scandalous  as  to  excite  the  disgust  of  the   barbarians 
themselves.     According  to  one    of  the   authors    of  those 
times,  as  quoted  by  Sheppard,1  "  they  were  notorious  for 
drunkenness,  avarice,   and  perjury  —  the  peculiar  sins  of 
degenerate  commercial  capitals.     The  Goths  are  perfidi 
ous  but  chaste,  the  Franks  are  liars  but    hospitable,  the 
Saxons  are   cruel  but  continent ;  but  the  Africans  are  a 
blazing  fire  of  impurity  and  lust ;  the  rich  are  drunk  with 
debauchery,  the  poor  are  ground  down  with  relentless  op 
pression,  while  other  vices,  too  indecent  to  be  named,  pol 
lute  every  class.     Who  can  wonder  at  the  fall  of  Roman 

1  Salvian,  De  Gub.  Dei,  vii.  251. 


480  The  Fall  of  the  Umpire.  [CHAP.  XL 

society  ?  What  hope  can  there  be  for  Rome,  when  bar 
barians  are  more  chaste  and  temperate  than  they  ?  " 

In  the  sack  of  Carthage,  the  voluminous  writings  of 
Augustine,  then  breathing  his  last  in  prayer  to  God  that 
the  fate  of  Sodom  might  be  averted,  were  fortunately  pre 
served,  and  have  doubtless  done  more  to  instruct,  and  per 
haps  civilize,  the  western  nations,  than  all  the  arts  and 
sciences  of  the  commercial  metropolis.  It  is  singular  how 
little  remains  of  the  commercial  cities  of  antiquity,  which 
we  value  as  trophies  of  civilization.  A  few  sculptured 
ruins  are  all  that  attest  ancient  pride  and  glory.  The 
poems  of  a  blind  schoolmaster  at  Chios,  and  the  rhapsodies 
of  a  wandering  philosopher  on  the  hills  of  Greece,  have 
proved  greater  legacies  to  the  world  than  the  combined 
treasures  of  Africa  and  Asia  Minor.  Where  is  the  liter 
ature  of  Carthage,  except  as  preserved  in  the  writings  of 
Augustine,  the  influence  of  which  in  developing  the  char 
acter  of  the  barbarians  cannot  be  estimated. 

The  cry  of  agony  which  went  from  Carthage  across  the 
Renewed  Mediterranean,  announced  to  Rome  that  her 
iSJrso  turn  would  come.  She  looked  in  vain  to  every 
quarter  for  assistance.  Every  city  and  province  had  need 
of  their  own  forces.  Theodoric,  king  of  the  Visigoths,  was 
contending  with  ^Etius  ;  in  Spain  the  Sueves  were  extend 
ing  their  ravages  ;  Attila  menaced  the  eastern  provinces  ; 
the  Emperor  Valentinian  was  forced  to  hide  in  the  marshes 
of  Ravenna,  and  see  the  second  sack  of  the  imperial  capi 
tal,  now  a  prostrate  power  —  a  corpse  in  a  winding-sheet. 

The  Vandals  landed  on  the  Italian  coast.  They  ad- 
The  vandals  vanced  to  the  Tiber's  banks.  The  Queen  of 
in  itaiy.  Cities  wrapped  around  her  the  faded  folds  of  her 
imperial  purple,  rent  by  faction,  pierced  with  barbaric 
daggers,  and  trampled  in  the  dust.  Yet  not  with  the 
dignity  of  her  great  Julius  did  she  die.  She  begged  for 
mercy,  not  proud  and  stately  amid  her  executioners,  but 
like  a  withered  hag,  with  the  wine-cup  of  sorceries  in  her 
hand,  pale,  haggard,  ghastly,  staggering,  helpless. 


CHAP,  xi.]          Ruin  and  Desolation  of  Rome.  481 

The  last  hope  of  Rome  was  her  Christian  bishop,  and 
the  great  Leo,  who  was  to  Rome  what  Augustine  sack  and 
had  been  to  Carthage,  in  his  pontifical  robes,  Rome, 
hastened  to  the  barbarians'  carnp.  But  all  he  could  secure 
was  the  promise  that  the  unresisting  should  be  spared,  the 
buildings  protected  from  fire,  and  the  captives  from  tor 
ture.  Even  this  promise  was  only  partially  fulfilled.  The 
pillage  lasted  fourteen  days  and  fourteen  nights,  and  all 
that  the  Goths  had  spared  was  transported  to  the  ships 
of  Genseric.  Among  the  spoils  were  the  statues  of  the  old 
pagan  gods  which  adorned  the  capitol,  the  holy  vessels  of 
the  Jewish  temples  which  Titus  had  brought  away  from 
Jerusalem,  and  the  shrines  and  altars  of  the  Christian 
churches  enriched  by  the  liberality  of  popes  and  emperors. 
The  gilding  of  the  capitol  had  cost  Domitian  twelve  mill 
ion  dollars,  or  twelve  thousand  talents,  but  the  bronze  on 
which  it  was  gilt  was  carried  away.  The  imperial  orna 
ments  of  the  palace,  the  magnificent  furniture  and  ward 
robe  of  senatorial  mansions,  and  the  sideboards  of  massive 
plate,  gold,  silver,  brass,  copper,  whatever  could  be  found, 
were  transported  to  the  ships.  The  Empress  Eudoxia  her 
self  was  stripped  of  her  jewels,  and  carried  away  captive 
with  her  two  daughters,  the  only  survivors  of  the  great 
Theodosius.  Thousands  of  Romans  were  forced  upon  the 
fleet,  while  wives  were  separated  from  their  husbands,  and 
children  from  their  parents,  and  sold  into  slavery.1 

Such  was  the  doom  of  Rome,  A.  D.  455,  forty-five  years 
after  the  Gothic  invasion.  The  haughty  city  had  Thedoomof 
met  the  fate  she  had  inflicted  upon  her  rivals.  Rome' 
And  she  never  would  probably  have  arisen  from  her  fall, 
but  would  have  remained  ruined  and  desolate,  had  not  her 
great  bishop,  rising  with  the  greatness  of  the  crisis,  and  in 
spired  with  the  old  imperishable  idea  of  national  unity, 
which  had  for  three  hundred  years  sustained  the  crum 
bling  empire,  exclaimed  to  the  rude  spoliators,  now  con- 

1  Gibbon,  chap,  xxxvi. 
31 


482  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  xi. 

verted  to  his  faith,  while  all  around  him  were  desolation 
and  ruin,  weeping  widows,  ashes,  groans,  lamentations, 
bitter  sorrows  —  nothing  left  but  recollections,  nothing  to 
be  seen  but  the  desolation  spoken  of  by  Jeremy  the 
prophet,  as  well  as  the  Cumean  Sybil ;  all  central  power 
subverted,  law  and  justice  by-words,  literature  and  art 
crushed,  vice  rampant  multiplying  itself,  the  contemplative 
hiding  in  cells,  the  rich  made  slaves,  women  shrieking  in 
terror,  bishops  praying  in  despair,  the  heart  of  the  world 
bleeding,  barbarians  everywhere  triumphant  —  in  this 
mournful  crisis,  did  Leo,  the  intrepid  Pontiff,  alone  and 
undismayed,  and  concentrating  within  himself  all  that  sur 
vived  of  the  ambition  and  haughty  will  of  the  ancient  cap 
ital,  exclaim  to  the  superstitious  victors,  in  the  spirit  if  not 
in  the  words  of  Hildebrand,  "  Beware,  I  am  the  successor 
The  heroism  °f  St.  Peter,  to  whom  God  has  given  the  keys  of 
of  the  Pope.  ^}Q  ^}ng(]om  of  heaven,  and  against  whose  church 
the  gates  of  hell  cannot  prevail ;  I  am  the  living  repre 
sentative  of  divine  power  upon  the  earth  ;  I  am  Caesar,  a 
Christian  Csesar,  ruling  in  love,  to  whom  all  Christians  owe 
allegiance  ;  I  hold  in  my  hands  the  curses  of  hell,  and  the 
benedictions  of  heaven  ;  I  absolve  all  subjects  from  alle 
giance  to  kings ;  I  give  and  take  away,  by  divine  right,  all 
thrones  and  principalities  of  Christendom  —  beware  how 
you  desecrate  the  patrimony  given  me  by  your  invisible 
king,  yea,  bow  down  your  necks  to  me,  and  pray  that  the 
anger  of  God  may  be  averted."  And  the  superstitious 
conquerors  wept,  and  bowed  their  faces  to  the  dust,  in 
reverence  and  in  awe,  and  Rome  again  arose  from  her  des 
olation —  the  seat  of  a  new  despotism  more  terrible  than 
the  centralized  power  of  the  emperors,  controlling  the 
wills  of  kings,  priests,  and  people,  and  growing  more  ma 
jestic  with  the  progress  of  ages ;  a  vital  and  mysterious 
power  which  even  the  Reformation  could  not  break,  and 
which  even  now  gives  no  signs  of  decay,  and  boldly  defies, 
in  the  plenitude  of  spiritual  power,  a  greater  prince  than 


CHAP.  XL]  Invasion  of  the  Huns.  483 

he  who  stood  in  the  winter  time  three  days  and  nights  be 
fore  the  gates  of  the  castle  of  Canossa,  bareheaded  and 
barefooted,  in  abject  submission  to  Gregory  VII. 

While  the  Vandals  were  thus  plundering  Rome,  a  still 
fiercer  race  of  barbarians  were  trampling  beneath  ft™™*1* 
their  feet  the  deserted  sanctuaries  of  the  empire,   barbarians. 
The  Huns,  a  Slavonic  race,  most  hideous  and  revolting  sav 
ages,  Tartar  hordes,  with  swarthy  faces,  sunken   TheHuna 
eyes,  flat  noses,  square  bodies,  big  heads,  broad 
shoulders,  low   stature,  without  pity,  or  fear,  or  mercy  — 
equally  the   enemies  of  the  Romans  and  the  Germans  — 
races  thus  far  incapable  of  civilization,  now  spread  them 
selves  from  the  Volga  to  the  Danube,  from  the  shores  of  the 
Caspian  to  the  Hadriatic.     They  were  a  nomadic  people, 
with  flocks  and  herds,  planting  no  seed,  reaping  no  har 
vest,  wandering  about   in  quest  of  a  living,  yet  powerful 
with  their  horses  and  darts.    For  fifty  years  after  they  had 
invaded  Southern  Europe,  their  aid  was  sought  and  secured 
by  the  rash  court  of  Constantinople,  as  a  counterpoise  to 
the  power  of  the  Goths  and  other  Germanic  tribes.     They 
were   obstinate  pagans,  and   had  an  invincible  hatred  of 
civilization.     They  had  various  fortunes  in  their  migrations 
and  wars,  and  experienced  some  terrible  defeats.    But  they 
had  their  eyes  open  to  the  spoil  of  the  crumbling  empire  — 
"  ripe  fruit "  for  them  to  pluck,  as  well  as  for  the  Goths 
and  Vandals. 

The  leader  of  the   Huns  at  this  period  was  Attila  — a 
man  of  great  astuteness  and  military  genius,  who      ^^ 
succeeded  in  conquering,  one  after  another,  every 
existing  tribe  of  barbarians  beyond  the  Danube  and  the 
Rhine,  and  then  turned  his  arms  against  the  eastern  empire. 
This  was  in  the  year  441.    They  ravaged  Pannonia,  routed 
two  Roman  armies,  laid  Thessaly  in  waste,  and  threatened 
Constantinople.    The  Emperor  Theodosius,  A.  D.  446,  pur 
chased  peace  by  an  ignominious  tribute,  so  great  as  to  re 
duce  many  leading  families  to  poverty.     "  The  scourge  of 


484  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

God  "  then  turned  his  steps  to  the  more  exhausted  fields 
of  the  western  provinces,  and  invaded  Gaul.  The  Visi 
goths  had  there  established  a  kingdom,  hostile  to  the  Van 
dal  power.  The  Huns  and  the  Vandals  united,  with  all 
the  savage  legions  which  could  be  collected  from  Lapland 
to  the  Indus,  against  the  Goths  and  imperial  forces  under 
the  command  of  ^Etius.  "  Never,"  says  Thierry,1  "  since 
the  days  of  Xerxes,  was  there  such  a  gathering  of  nations 
as  now  followed  the  standard  of  Attila,  some  five  hundred 
thousand  warriors  —  Huns,  Alans,  Gepidaa,  Neuvi,  Geloni, 
The  hosts  of  Bastarnae,  Heruli,  Lombards,  Belloniti,  Rugi, 
rians.  '  some  German  but  chiefly  Asiatic  tribes,  with  their 
long  quivers  and  ponderous  lances,  and  cuirasses  of  plaited 
hair,  and  scythes,  and  round  bucklers,  and  short  swords." 
This  heterogeneous  host,  from  the  Sarmatian  plains,  and 
the  banks  of  the  Vistula  and  Niemen,  extended  from  Basle 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Rhine.  Attila  directed  it  against  Or 
leans,  on  the  Loire,  an  important  strategic  position.  ^Etius 
went  to  meet  him,  bringing  all  the  barbaric  auxiliaries  he 
could  collect  —  Britons,  Franks,  Burgundians,  Sueves, 
Saxons,  Visigoths.  It  was  not  so  much  Roman  against 
barbarian,  as  Europe  against  Asia,  which  was  now  arrayed 
upon  the  plains  of  Champagne,  for  Orleans  had  fallen  into 
Battle  of  tne  hands  of  the  Huns.  There,  at  Chalons,  was 
Chaions.  fought  the  most  decisive  and  bloody  battle  of  that 
dreadful  age,  by  which  Europe  was  delivered  from  Asia, 
even  as  at  a  later  clay  the  Saracens  were  shut  out  of 
France  by  Charles  Martel.  "  Bellum  atrox,  multiplex,  im- 
mane,  pertinax,  cui  simile  nulla  usquam  narrat  antiquitas."2 
Attila  began  the  fight ;  on  his  left  were  the  Ostrogoths 
under  Vladimir,  on  his  right  were  the  Gepidae,  while  in  the 
centre  were  stationed  the  Huns,  with  their  irresistible  cav 
alry.  ^Etius  stationed  the  Franks  and  Burgundians,  whose 
loyalty  he  doubted,  in  the  centre,  while  he  strengthened 
his  wings,  and  assumed  the  command  of  his  own  left, 
i  Hisloire  cTAttilla,  vol.  i.  p.  141.  2  Jornandes. 


CHAP.  XL]  Retreat  of  Attila.  485 

The  Huns,  as  expected,  made  their  impetuous  charge ;  the 
Roman  army  was  cut  in  two ;  but  the  wings  of  ^Etius 
overlapped  the  cavalry  of  Attila,  and  drove  back  Defeatof  the 
his  wings.  Attila  was  beaten,  and  Gaul  was  saved  * 
from  the  Slavonic  invaders.  It  is  computed  that  three  hun 
dred  thousand  barbarians,  on  both  sides,  were  slain  —  the 
most  fearful  slaughter  recorded  in  the  whole  annals  of  war. 
The  discomfited  king  of  the  Huns  led  back  his  forces  to 
the  Rhine,  ravaging  the  cities  and  villages  through  which 
he  passed,  and  collected  a  new  army.  The  following  year 
he  invaded  Italy. 

^Etius  alone  remained  to  stem  the  barbaric  hosts.     He 
had  won  one  of  the  greatest  victories  of  ancient   The  Roman 
times,  and  sought  for  a  reward.     And  consider-  jm\a. 
ing  the  brilliancy  of  his  victory,  and  the  greatness  of  his 
services,  the  marriage  of  his  son  with  the  princess  Eudoxia 
was  not  an  unreasonable  object  of  ambition.    But  his  great 
ness  made   him  unpopular  with    the  debauched  court  at 
Ravenna,  and  he  was  left  without  a  sufficient  force  to  stem 
the  invasion  of  the  Huns.     Aquileia,  the  most  important 
and    strongly  fortified  city  of  Northern  Italy,  for  a  time 
stood  out  against  the  attack  of  the  barbarians,  but  ulti 
mately  yielded.      Fugitives   from    the  Venetian  territory 
sought  a  refuge  among  the  islands  which  skirt  the  northern 
coast  of  the  Adriatic  —  the  haunts  of  fishermen  and  sea- 
birds.     There  Venice  was  born,  which  should  revive  the 
glory  of  the  West,  and  write  her  history  upon  the  waves 
for  a    thousand  years.      Attila  had    spent    the    spring  in 
his  attack  on  Aquileia,  and  the  summer  heats  were  un 
favorable  for  further  operations,  and  his  soldiers  dlamored 
for  repose  ;  but,  undaunted  by  the  ravages  which  sickness 
produced  in  his  army,  he  resolved  to  cross  the  Apennines 
and  give  a  last  blow  to  Rome.     Leo  again  sought  the  bar 
barians'  camp,  and  met  with  more  success  than  he  did  with 
the  Vandals.     Attila  consented  to  leave  Italy  in   ^^^  of 
consideration  of  an  annual  tribute,  and  the  prom-   Atfcila> 


486 


The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

ise  of  the  hand  of  the  princess  Honoria,  sister  of  the  Em 

peror  Valentmian,  who,  years  before,  in  a  fit  of  female 
p,  efulness  for  having  been  banished  to  Constantinople, 

had  sent  her  ring  as  a  gage  d'amour  to  the  repulsive  bar- 
banan  He  then  retired  to  the  Danube  by  the  passes  of 

he  Alps,  where  he  spent  the  winter  in  bacchanalian  oroies 
and  preparauons  for  an  invasion  of  the  eastern  provinces. 
Bu  his  career  was  suddenly  cut  off  by  the  avenging  pon 
iard  of  I  d,go,  a  Bactrian  or  Burgundian  princets,  whom 
he  had  taken  for  one  of  his  numerous  wives,  and  whose 
relations  he  had  slain. 

On  his  death,  the  German  tribes  refHsed  longer  to  serve 
SSSS"    U"der  tlle  divided  rule  of  ^  sons,  and  after  a 
' 


t),P         •  t     te  m°re   ba'-barous  Huns, 

the  emplre  of  Att.la  disappeared  as  one  of  the  great  power 
f  the  world,  and  Italy  was  delivered  forever   from  this 
plague  of  locusts.     The    battle  of  Netad,  in    which  they 
suffered  a  disastrous  defeat,  was  perhaps  as  decisive  as  the 
battle  of  Chalons.     They  returned  to  Asia,  or  else  were 
gradually  worn  out  in  unavailing  struggles  with  the  Goths 
The  Avars  a  tribe  of  the  great  Turanian  race,  and  kin- 
TheAvwi.      dre(1  *°  the  Huns,  a  few  years  after  their  retreat 
crossed  the  Danube,  established  themselves  be 
tween  that  river  and  the   Save,  invaded  the  Greek  em 
pire,  and  ravaged  the  provinces  almost  to  the  walls  of  Con- 
stantmople.     It  would  seem  from  Sheppard  that  the  Avars 
had  migrated  from  the  very  centre  of  Asia,  two  thousand 
miles  from  the  Caspian   Sea,  fleeing  from  the  Turks  who 
had  reduced  them  to  their  swny.'  In  their  migration  to  the 
West,  they  overturned  every  thing  in  their  way,  and  spread 
great   alarm   at  Constantinople.      Justinian,  "then  an  old 
man,  A   D.  567,  purchased  their  peace  by  an  annual  trib 
ute  and  the  grant  of  lands.     In  582,  the'  Avar  empire  was 
fi.mly  estabhshed  on  the  Danube,  and  in  the  valleys  of  the 
But  it  was  more  hostile  to  the  Slavic  tribes,  than 

1  Sheppard,  Lect.  iv. 


CHAP.  XL]  Last  Days  of  the  Empire.  487 

to  the  Byzantine  Greeks,  who  then  occupied  the  centre 
and  southeast  of  Europe,  and  who  were  reduced  to  mis 
erable  slavery.  With  the  Franks,  the  Avars  also  came 
in  conflict,  and,  after  various  fortunes,  were  subdued  by 
Charlemagne.  Their  subsequent  history  cannot  here  be 
pursued,  until  they  were  swept  away  from  the  roll  of 
the  European  nations.  Moreover,  it  was  not  until  after 
the  fall  of  Rome,  that  they  were  formidable. 

The  real  drama  of  the  fall   of  Rome    closes  with    the 
second   sack  of  the  city  by  the  Vandals,   since   Finaidi^s- 
the  imperial  power  was  nearly  prostrated  in  the  empire. 
West,  and  shut  up  within  the  walls  of  Ravenna.    But  Italy 
was  the  scene  of  great  disasters  for  twenty  years  after,  until 
the  last  of  the  emperors  —  Augustulus  Romulus  ;  what  a 
name  with  which  to  close  the  series  of  Roman  emperors  !  — 
was  dethroned  by  Odoacer,  chief  of  the  Heruli,  a  Scythian 
tribe,  and  Rome  was  again  stormed  and  sacked,  A.  D.  476. 
During  these  twenty  years,  the  East  and  the  West  were 
finally  severed,  and  Italy  was  ruled  by  barbaric  chieftains, 
and  their  domination  permanently  secured.     Valentinian, 
the  last  emperor  of  the  race  of  Theodosius,  was  assassin 
ated  in  the  year  455  (at  the    instigation  of  the   Senator 
Maximus,  of  the  celebrated  Anician  family,  whose  wife  he 
had  violated),  a  man  who  had  inherited  all  the  weaknesses 
of  his  imperial  house,  without  its  virtues,  and  under  whose 
detestable  reign  the  people  were  so  oppressed  with  taxes 
and  bound  down   by  inquisitions  that  they  preferred  the 
barbarians  to  the  empire.     The  successive  reigns  of  Max 
imus,    Avitus,    Majorian,    Severus,    Anthemius,  Imbecile 
Olybrius,    Glycerius,    Nepos,    and    Augustulus,  emper< 
nine  emperors  in  twenty-one  years,  suggests  nothing  but 
disorder   and   revolution.     The   murderer   of  Valentinian 
reigned  but  three  months,  during  which  Rome  was  sacked 
bv  the  Vandals.     Avitus  was  raised  to  his  vacant  throne 
by  the  support  of   the  Visigoths  of  Gaul,  then  ruled  by 
Theodorh,  a  majestic  barbarian,  and  the  most  enlightened 


488  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XI. 

and  civilized  of  all  the  leaders  of  the  Gothic  hosts  who  had 
yet  appeared.  He  fought  and  vanquished  the  Suevi,  who 
had  established  themselves  in  Spain,  in  the  name  of  the  em 
peror  whom  he  had  placed  upon  the  throne,  but  he  really 
ruled  on  both  sides  of  the  Alps,  and  Avitus  was  merely 
his  puppet,  and  distinguished  only  for  his  infamous  pleas 
ures,  although,  as  a  general,  he  had  once  saved  the  empire 
from  the  Huns. 

He  was  in  turn  deposed  by  Count  Ricimer,  a  Sueve, 
Last  days  of  an<^  generalissimo  of  the  Roman  armies,  and  Ma- 
jorian,  whom  Ricimer  thought  to  make  a  tool, 
was  placed  in  his  stead.  But  he  was  an  able  and  good 
man,  and  attempted  to  revive  the  traditions  of  the  empire, 
and  met  the  fate  of  all  reformers  in  a  hopeless  age,  doubt 
less  under  the  influence  of  Ricimer,  who  substituted  Sev- 
erus,  a  Lucanian,  who  perished  by  poison  after  a  reign  of 
four  years,  so  soon  as  he  became  distasteful  to  the  military 
subordinate,  who  was  all  -  powerful  at  Rome,  and  who 
ruled  Italy  for  six  years  without  an  emperor  with  despotic 
authority.  During  these  six  years  Italy  was  perpetually 
ravaged  by  the  Vandals,  who  landed  and  pillaged  the 
coast,  and  then  retired  with  their  booty.  Ricimer,  without 
ships,  invoked  the  aid  of  the  court  of  Constantinople,  who 
imposed  a  Greek  upon  the  throne  of  Italy.  Though  a 
man  of  great  ability,  Anthemius,  the  new  emperor,  was 
unpopular  with  the  Italians  and  the  barbarians,  and  he, 
again,  was  deposed  by  Ricimer,  and  Olybrius,  a  senator  of 
the  Anician  house,  reigned  in  his  stead,  A.  D.  472.  It 
was  then  that  Rome  for  the  third  time  was  sacked  by  one 
of  her  own  generals.  Olybrius  reigned  but  a  few  months, 
and  Glycerins,  captain  of  his  guard,  was  selected  as  his 
successor  —  an  appointment  disagreeable  to  the  Greek  Em 
peror  Leo,  who  opposed  to  him  Julius  Nepos  —  a  distin 
guished  general,  who  succeeded  in  ejecting  Glycerius. 
The  Visigoths,  offended,  made  war  upon  Roman  Gaul. 
Julius  sent  against  them  Orestes,  a  Pannonian,  called  the 


CHAP.  XL]     Final  Dismemberment  of  the  Umpire.          489 

Patrician,  who  turned  a  traitor,  and,  on  the  assassination 
of  Julius,  entered  Ravenna  in  triumph.  His  son,  chris 
tened  Romulus,  the  soldiers  elevated  upon  a  shield  and 
saluted  Augustus ;  but  as  he  was  too  small  to  wear  the 
purple  robe,  they  called  him  Augustulus  —  a  bitter  mock 
ery,  recalling  the  battle  of  Actium,  and  the  foundation  of 
Rome.  He  was  the  last  of  the  Ca3sars.  It  was  easier  to 
make  an  emperor  than  keep  him  in  his  place.  The  bands 
of  Orestes  clamored  for  lands  equal  to  a  third  of  Italy. 
Orestes  hesitated,  and  refused  the  demand.  The  soldiers 
were  united  under  Odoacer  —  chief  of  the  Heruli,  a  gen 
eral  in  the  service  of  the  Patrician  —  one  of  the  boldest 
and  most  unscrupulous  of  those  mercenaries  who  lent  their 
arms  in  the  service  of  the  government  of  Ravenna.  The 
standard  of  revolt  was  raised,  and  the  barbarian  army 
marched  against  their  former  master.  Leaving  his  son  in 
Ravenna,  Orestes,  himself  an  able  general  trained  in  the 
service  of  Attila,  went  forth  to  meet  his  enemy  on  the  Lom 
bard  plains.  Unable  to  make  a  stand,  he  shut  himself  up 
in  Pavia,  which  was  taken  and  sacked,  and  Orestes  put  to 
death.  The  barbarians  then  marched  to  Ravenna,  which 
they  took,  with  the  boy  who  wore  the  purple,  who  was 
not' slain  as  his  father  was,  but  pensioned  with  six  thousand 
crowns,  and  sent  to  a  Campanian  villa,  which  once  belonged 
to  Sulla  and  Lucullus.  The  throne  of  the  Caesars  was  hope 
lessly  subverted,  and  Odoacer  was  king  of  Italy,  and  por 
tioned  out  its  lands  to  his  greedy  followers,  A.  D.  476.  He 
was  not  unworthy  of  his  high  position,  but  his  kingdom 
was  in  a  sad  state  of  desolation,  and  after  a  reign  of  four 
teen  years  he  was  in  turn  supplanted  by  the  superior 
genius  of  Theodoric,  king  of  the  Ostrogoths,  under  whom 
a  new  era  dawned  upon  Italy  and  the  West,  A.  D.  490. 

The  Roman  empire  was  now  dismembered,  and  the  va 
rious  tribes  of  barbarians,  after  a  contest  of  two 
hundred   years  were  fairly  settled    in   its  prov-  empire. 
inces. 


490  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XI 

In  Italy  we  find  the  Ostrogoths  as  a  dominant  power. 
The  settle-  who,  migrating  from  the  mouth  of  the  Danube, 
oTtrogofthse  w^tn  a^  tne  barbarians  they  could  enlist  under 
in  itaiy.  faQ  standard  of  Theodoric,  prevailed  over  Odo- 
acer,  and  settled  in  Italy.  The  Gothic  kingdom  was  as 
sailed  afterward  by  Belisarius  and  Narses,  the  great  gen 
erals  of  Justinian,  also  by  the  Lombards  under  Alboin, 
who  maintained  themselves  in  the  north  of  Italy. 

Gaul  was  divided  among  the  Franks,  the  Burgundians, 
The  settle-  anc^  *ne  Visigoths,  whose  perpetual  wars,  and 
rrTnk°gfiihe  whose  infant  kingdom,  it  is  not  my  object  to  pre- 
GauL  sent. 

Britain  was  possessed  by  the  Saxons,  Spain  by  the  Van- 
The settle-  dais,  Suevi,  and  Visigoths,  and  Africa  by  the 
saexnon°finhe  Vandals,  while  the  whole  eastern  empire  fell  into 
Britain.  ^  nan(]s  of  tne  Saracens,  except  Constantinople, 
which  preserved  the  treasures  of  Greek  and  Roman  civili 
zation,  until  the  barbarians,  elevated  by  the  Christian  relig 
ion,  were  prepared  to  ingraft  it  upon  their  own  rude  laws 
and  customs. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  trace  the  various  fortunes  of 
these  Teutonic  tribes  in  the  devastated  provinces  which 
they  possessed  by  conquest.  But  this  would  lead  us  into  a 
boundless  field,  foreign  to  our  inquiry.  It  is  the  fall  of 
Rome,  not  the  reconstruction  by  the  new  races,  which  I 
seek  to  present.  It  would  also  be  interesting  to  survey 
the  old  capital  of  the  world  in  the  hands  of  her  various 
masters,  pillaged  and  sacked  by  all  in  turn  ;  but  her  doom 
was  sealed  when  Alaric  entered  the  gates  which  had  been 
closed  for  six  hundred  years  to  a  foreign  enemy,  and  the 
empire  fell,  virtually,  when  the  haughty  city,  so  long  a 
queen  among  the  nations,  yielded  up  her  palaces  as  spoil. 
The  eastern  empire  had  a  longer  life,  but  it  was  inglorious 
when  Rome  was  no  longer  the  superior  city. 

The  story  of  the  fall  of  the  grandest  empire  ever  erected 
on  our  earth  is  simple  and  impressive.  Genius,  energy, 


CHAP.  XL]      Reflections  on  the  Fall  of  the  Umpire.        491 

and  patience  led  to  vast  possessions,  which  were  retained 
by  a  uniform  policy  which  nothing  could   turn  ™^™»of 
aside.     Prosperity  and  success  led  to  boundless  the  empire. 
self-exagcreratioiTand  a  depreciation  of  enemies,  while  the 
vices  of  "self-interest  undermined  gradually  all  real  strength. 
Society  became    utterly  demoralized   and  weakened,  and 
there  were  no    conservative   forces  sufficiently  strong    to 
hold  it  together.     Vitality  was  destroyed  by  disproportion 
ate  fortunes,  by  slavery,  by  the  extinction  of  the  middle 
classes,  by  the  degradation  of  woman,  by  demoralizing  ex 
citements,  by  factitious  life,  by  imperial  misrule,  by  pro 
consular  tyranny,  by  enervating  vices,  by  the  absence  of 
elevated  sentiments,  by  an  all-engrossing  abandonment  to 
money-making  and  the  pleasures  it  procured,  so  that  no 
lofty  appeal  could  be  made  to  which  the  degenerate  people 
would  listen,  or  which  they  could  understand.     The  em 
pire  was  rotten  to  the  core  —  was  steeped  in   selfishness, 
sensuality,  and  frivolity,  and  the  poison  pervaded  all  classes 
and  orders,  and  descended  to  the  extremities  of  the  social 
system.     What  could  be  done  ?     There  was  no  help  from 
man.     The  empire  was  on  the  verge  of  dissolution  when 
the  barbarians  came.     They  only  gave  a  shock  and  has 
tened  the  fall.     The  empire  was  ripe  fruit,  to  be  plucked 
by  the  strongest  hand. 

'  Three  centuries  earlier  a  brave  resistance  would  have 
been  made,  and  the  barbarians  would  have  been  over 
thrown  and  annihilated  or  sold  as  slaves.  But  they  were 
now  the  stronger,  even  with  their  rude  weapons,  and  with 
out  the  arts  of  war  which  the  Romans  had  been  learning 
for  a  thousand  years.  Yet  they  suffered  prodigious  losses 
before  they  became  ultimately  victorious.  But  they  per 
severed,  driven  by  necessity  as  well  as  the  love  of  ad 
venture  and  rapine.  Wave  after  wave  was  rolled  back  by 
desperate  generals  ;  but  the  tide  returned,  and  swept,  all 

away. 

Fortunately,   they  reconstructed   after   they  had   once 


492  The  Fall  of  the  Empire.  [CHAP.  XL 

destroyed.  They  were  converts  of  Christianity,  and  had 
sympathy  with  many  elements  of  civilization.  "  Some 
solitary  sparks  fell  from  the  beautiful  world  that  was  passed 
upon  the  night  of  their  labors."  These  kindled  a  fire  which 
has  never  been  extinguished.  They  had,  with  all  their 
barbarism,  some  great  elements  of  character,  and  in  all 
the  solid  qualities  of  the  heart,  were  superior  to  the  races 
they  subdued.  They  brought  their  fresh  blood  into  the 
body  politic,  and  were  alive  to  sentiments  of  religion, 
patriotism,  and  love.  They  were  enthusiastic,  hopeful, 
generous,  and  uncontaminated  by  those  subtle  vices  which 
ever  lead  to  ruin.  They  made  innumerable  mistakes,  and 
committed  inexcusable  follies.  But,  after  a  long  pilgrim 
age,  and  severely  disciplined  by  misfortunes,  they  erected 
a  new  fabric,  established  by  the  beautiful  union  of  German 
strength  and  Roman  art,  on  the  more  solid  foundations  of 
Christian  truth. 


The  authorities  for  this  chapter  are  not  numerous.  They  are  the 
historians  of  the  empire  in  its  decline  and  miseries.  Gibbon's  history 
is  doubtless  the  best  in  English.  He  may  be  compared  with  Tille- 
mont's  Hist,  des  Emperors.  Sheppard  has  written  an  interesting  and 
instructing  book  on  this  period,  but  it  pertains  especially  to  the  rise  of 
the  new  barbaric  states.  Tacitus'  chapter  on  the  Manners  of  the  Ger 
mans  should  be  read  in  connection  with  the  wars.  Gibbon  quotes  largely 
from  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  who  is  the  best  Latin  historian  of  the  last 
days  of  Rome.  Zosimus  is  an  authority,  but  he  is  brief.  Procopius 
wrote  a  history  of  the  Vandal  wars.  Gregory  of  Tours  describes  the 
desolations  in  Gaul,  as  well  as  Journandes.  The  writings  of  Jerome, 
Augustine,  and  other  fathers,  allude  somewhat  to  the  miseries  and 
wickedness  of  the  times.  But  of  all  the  writers  on  this  dark  and  gloomy 
period,  Gibbon  is  the  most  satisfactory  and  exhaustive ;  nor  is  it  prob 
able  he  will  soon  be  supplanted  in  a  field  so  dreary  and  sad. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  REASONS  WHY  THE  CONSERVATIVE  INFLUENCES  OF 
PAGAN  CIVILIZATION  DID  NOT  ARREST  THE  RUIN  OF 
THE  ROMAN  WORLD. 

IT   is   a   most   interesting   inquiry  why  art,   literature, 
science,  philosophy,  and  political  organizations,  and  other 
trophies  of  the  unaided  reason  of  man,  did  not  prevent  so 
mournful  an  eclipse  of  human  glory  as  took  place  upon  the 
fall  of  the  majestic  empire  of  the  Romans.     There  can  be 
no  question   that  civilization   achieved  most  splendid   tri 
umphs,  even   under   the    influence   of  pagan   institutions. 
But  it  was  not  paganism  which  achieved  these  victories  ; 
it  was  the  will  and  the  reason  of  a  noble  race,  in  spite  of 
its   withering  effects.     It  was  the  proud  reason    of  man 
which  soared  to  such  lofty  heights,  and  attempted  to  secure 
happiness  and  prosperity.     These  great  ends  were  measur 
ably  attained,  and  a  self-sufficient  philosopher  might  have 
pointed  to  these  victories  as  both  glorious  and  permanent. 
When  the  eyes  of  contemporaries  rested  on  the  beautiful 
and  cultivated  face  of  nature,  on  commerce  and  ships,  on 
military  successes  and  triumphs,  on  the  glories  of  heroes 
and  generals,  on  a  subdued  world,  on  a  complicated  mech 
anism  of  social  life,  on  the  blazing  wonders  of  art,  on  the 
sculptures  and  pictures,  the  temples  and  monuments  which 
ornamented  every  part  of  the  empire,  when  they  reflected 
on  the  bright  theories  which  philosophy  proposed,  on  the 
truths  which  were  incorporated  with  the  system  of  juris 
prudence,  on  the  wondrous  constitution  which  the  experi 
ence  of  ages   had   framed,  on   the    genius   of  poets  and 


494     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.   [CHAP.  xu. 

historians,  on  the  whole  system  of  social  life,  adorned  with 
polished  manners  and  the  graces  of  genial  intercourse  — 
when  they  saw  that  all  these  triumphs  had  been  won  over 
barbarism,  and  had  been  constantly  progressing  with  suc 
ceeding  generations,  it  seemed  that  the  reign  of  peace  and 
-  prosperity  would  be  perpetual.  It  is  nothing  to 


merehuemaa  tne  Pomt  whether  the  civilization  of  which  all 
people  boasted,  and  in  which  they  trusted,  was 
superior  or  inferior  to  that  which  has  subsequently  been 
achieved  by  the  Gothic  races.  The  question  is,  Did  these 
arts  and  sciences  produce  an  influence  sufficiently  strong 
to  conserve  society  ?  That  they  polished  and  adorned  in 
dividuals  cannot  be  questioned.  Did  they  infuse  life  into 
the  decaying  mass  ?  Did  they  prolong  political  existence  ? 
Did  they  produce  valor  and  moral  force  among  the  masses  ? 
Did  they  raise  a  bulwark  capable  of  resisting  human  de 
generacy  or  barbaric  violence  ?  Did  they  lead  to  self-re 
straint  ?  Did  they  create  a  lofty  public  sentiment  which 
scorned  baseness  and  lies  ?  Did  they  so  raise  the  moral 
tone  of  society  that  people  wrere  induced  to  make  sacrifices 
and  noble  efforts  to  preserve  blessings  which  had  already 
been  secured. 

I  have  to  show  that  the  grandest  empire  of  antiquity 
perished  from  the  same  causes  which  destroyed  Babylon 
and  Carthage  ;  that  all  the  magnificent  trophies  of  the  in 
tellect  were  in  vain  ;  that  the  sources  of  moral  renovation 
were  poisoned  ;  that  nothing  worked  out,  practically  and 
generally,  the  good  which  was  intended,  and  which  enthu 
siasts  had  hoped  ;  that  the  very  means  of  culture  were 
perverted,  and  that  the  savor  unto  life  became  a  savor 
unto  death.  In  short,  it  will  appear  from  the  example  of 
Rome,  that  man  cannot  save  himself;  that  he  cannot  orig 
inate  any  means  of  conservation  which  will  not  be  foiled 
and  rendered  nugatory  by  the  force  of  human  corruption  ; 
that  man,  left  to  himself,  will  defeat  his  own  purposes,  and 
that  all  his  enterprises  and  projects  will  end  in  shame  and 


CHAP,  xii.]       Inadequacy  of  the   Old  Civilization.          495 

humiliation,  so  far  as  they  are  intended  to  preserve  society. 
The  history  of  all  the  pagan  races  and  countries  civilization 

J  .       can  only  rise 


show   that   only  a   limited    height  can    ever  be  ^  M  b 
reached,  and  that  society  is  destined  to  perpetual  aided  reason. 
falls  as  well  as  triumphs,  and  would  move  on  in  circles  for 
ever,  where  no  higher  aid  comes  than  from  man  himself. 
And  this  great  truth  is  so  forcibly  borne  out  by  facts,  that 
those  profound  arid  learned  historians  who  are  skeptical  of 
the  power  of  Christianity,   have  generally  embraced   the 
theory  that  nations  must  rise  and  fall  to  the  end  of  time  ; 
and  society  will   show,  like  the  changes  of  nature,  only 
phases  which  have  appeared  before.     Their  gloomy  theo 
ries  remind  us  of  the  perpetual  swinging  of  a  pendulum,  or 
the  endless  labors  of  Ixion  —  circles  and  cycles  of  motion, 
but  no  general  and  universal  progress  to  a  perfect  state  of 
happiness  and  prosperity.     And  if  we  were  not  supported 
by  the  hopes  which  Christianity  furnishes,  if  Ave  adopted 
the  pagan  principles  of  Gibbon  or  Buckle,  history  would 
only  confirm    the    darkest  theories.     But  the  history   of 
Greece  and   Rome   and   Egypt  are   only  chapters  in  the 
great  work  which  Providence  unfolds.    They  are  only  acts 
in  the  great  drama  of  universal  life.     The  history  of  those 
old  pagan  empires  is  full  of  instruction.     In  one  sense,  it 
seems  mournful,  but  it  only  shows  that  society  must  be  a 
failure  under  the  influences  which  man's  genius  originates. 
This  world  is  not  destined  to  be  a  failure,  although  the 
empires  of  antiquity  were.     I  fall  in  with  the  most  cheer 
less  philosophy  of  the  infidel  historians,  if  there  is  no  other 
hope  for  man,  as  illustrated  by  the  rise  and  fall  of  em 
pires,  than  what  the  pagan  intellect  devised.     But  this  in 
duction  is  not  sufficiently  broad.     They  have  too  few  facts 
upon  which  to  build  a  theory.     Yet  the  theory  they  ad 
vance  is  supported  by  all  the  facts  brought  out  by  the  his 
tory  of  pagan  countries.     And  this  is  my  reason  for  bring 
ing  out  so  much  that  is  truly  glorious,  in  an   important 
sense,  in  Roman  history,  to  show  that  these  glories  did  not, 


496     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xn. 

and  could  not,  save.  And  the  moral  lesson  I  would  draw 
is,  that  any  civilization,  based  on  what  man  creates  or  orig 
inates,  even  in  his  most  lofty  efforts,  will  fail  as  signally  as 
the  Grecian  and  the  Roman,  so  far  as  the  conservation  of 
society  is  concerned,  in  the  hour  of  peril,  when  corruption 
and  degeneracy  have  also  accomplished  their  work.  Pa 
ganism  cannot  give  other  than  temporary  triumphs.  Its 
victories  are  not  progressive.  They  do  not  tend  to  indefin 
ite  and  ever-expanding  progress.  They  simply  show  an 
intellectual  brilliancy,  which  is  soon  dimmed  by  the  vapors 
which  arise  out  of  the  fermentations  of  corrupt  society. 

The  question  here  may  arise  why  the  Greeks  and  Ro- 
The  virtues     mans  themselves  arose  from  a  state  of  barbarism 

of  the  prirni-  . 

tive  races.  to  the  degree  ot  culture  which  has  given  them 
immortality  ?  Why  did  they  not  remain  barbarians,  like 
the  natives  of  Central  Africa  ?  But  they  belonged  to  a  pe 
culiar  race —  that  great  Caucasian  race  which,  in  all  of  its 
ramifications,  showed  superior  excellences,  and  which,  in 
the  earliest  times,  seems  to  have  cherished  ideas  and 
virtues  which  probably  were  learned  from  a  primitive  reve 
lation.  The  Romans,  in  the  early  ages  of  the  republic, 
were  superior  to  their  descendants  in  the  time  of  the  em 
perors  in  all  those  qualities  which  give  true  dignity  to 
character.  I  doubt  if  there  was  ever  any  great  improve 
ment  among  the  Romans  in  a  moral  point  of  view.  They 
acquired  arts  as  they  declined  in  virtue.  If  strictly  scru 
tinized  I  believe  it  would  appear  that  the  Roman  character 
was  nobler  six  hundred  years  before  Christ  than  in  the 
second  century  of  our  era.  It  was  the  magnificent  mate 
rial  on  which  civilizing  influences  had  to  work  that  ac 
counts  for  Roman  greatness,  in  the  same  sense  that  there 
was  a  dignity  in  the  patriarchal  period  of  Jewish  history 
not  to  be  found  under  the  reigns  of  the  kings.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  the  Greeks.  The  Homeric  poems  show  a 
natural  beauty  and  simplicity  more  attractive  than  the 
rationalistic  character  of  the  Athenians  in  the  time  of  Soc- 


CHAP,  xii.]         Virtues  of  the  Primitive  Races.  497 

rates.  There  was  a  progress  in  arts  which  was  not  to  be 
seen  in  common  life.  And  this  is  true  also  of  the  Persians. 
They  were  really  a  greater  people  under  Cyrus  than  when 
they  reigned  in  Babylon.  There  are  no  records  of  the 
Indo-Germanic  races  which  do  not  indicate  a  certain  great 
ness  of  character  in  the  earliest  periods.  The  Germanic 
tribes  were  barbarians,  but  in  piety,  in  friendship,  in  hospi 
tality,  in  sagacity,  in  severe  morality,  in  the  high  estima 
tion  in  which  women  were  held,  in  the  very  magnificence 
of  superstitions,  we  see  the  traits  of  a  noble  national  char 
acter.  It  would  be  difficult  to  show  absolute  degradation 
at  any  time  among  these  people.  How  they  came  to  have 
these  grand  traits  in  their  primeval  forests  it  is  difficult  to 
show.  Certainly  they  were  never  such  a  people  as  the 
Africans  or  the  Malay  races,  or  even  the  Slavonic  tribes. 
These  natural  elements  of  character  extorted  the  admira 
tion  of  Tacitus,  even  as  the  Orientals  won  the  respect  of 
Herodotus.  It  is  more  easy  to  conceive  why  such  a  people 
as  the  Greeks  and  Romans  were,  in  their  primitive  sim 
plicity,  when  they  were  brave,  trusting,  affectionate,  enter 
prising,  should  make  progress  in  arts  and  sciences,  than 
why  they  should  have  degenerated  after  a  high  civilization 
had  been  reached.  They  made  the  arts  and  sciences.  The 
arts  and  sciences  did  not  make  them.  They  were  great 
before  civilization,  as  technically  understood,  was  born. 
Why  they  were  so  superior  to  other  races  we  cannot  tell. 
They  were  either  made  so,  or  else  they  must  have  received 
a  revelation  from  above,  or  learned  some  of  the  great  truths 
which  by  God  were  taught  to  the  patriarchs.  Possibly  the 
wisdom  they  very  early  evinced  had  come  down  from 
father  to  son  from  the  remotest  antiquity.  The  divine 
savor  may  have  leavened  the  whole  race  before  history 
was  written.  With  their  uncorrupted  and  primitive  habits, 
they  had  a  moral  force  which  enabled  them  to  make  great 
improvements.  Without  this  force  they  never  would  have 
reached  so  high  a  culture.  And  when  the  moral  force 

32 


498     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xil. 

was  spent,  the  civilization  they  created  also  passed  away 
from  them  to  other  uncorrupted  races.  The  Greeks 
learned  from  Egyptians,  as  Romans  learned  from  Greeks. 
Civilization  only  reached  a  limited  state  among  the  Egyp 
tians.  It  never  advanced  for  three  thousand  years.  Greek 
culture  retrograded  after  the  age  of  Pericles.  There  were 
but  few  works  of  genius  produced  at  Rome  after  the  An- 
tonines.  The  age  of  Augustus  saw  a  higher  triumph  of 
art  than  the  age  of  Cato,  yet  the  moral  greatness  of  the 
Romans  was  more  marked  in  the  time  of  Cato  than  in  that 
of  Augustus.  If  moral  elevation  kept  pace  with  art,  why 
the  memorable  decline  in  morals  when  the  genius  Of  the 

O 

Romans  soared  to  its  utmost  height?  The  virtues  of  so 
ciety  were  a  soil  on  which  art  prospered,  and  art  continued 
to  be  developed  long  after  real  vigor  had  fled,  but  only 
reached  a  certain  limit,  and  declined  when  life  was  gone. 
In  other  words,  the  force  of  character,  which  the  early 
Romans  evinced,  gave  an  immense  impulse  to  civilization, 
whose  fruits  appeared  after  the  glory  of  character  was 
gone  ;  but,  having  no  soil,  the  tree  of  knowledge  at  last 
withered  away.  If  the  old  civilization  had  a  life  of  itself, 
it  would  have  saved  the  race.  But  as  it  was  purely  man's 
creation,  his  work,  it  had  no  inherent  vitality  or  power  to 
save  him.  The  people  were  great  before  the  fruits  of  their 
culture  appeared.  They  were  great  in  consequence  of 
living  virtues,  not  legacies  of  genius.  They  ran  the  usual 
course  of  the  ancient  nations.  The  sterling  virtues  of 

O 

primitive  times  produced  prosperity  and  material  greatness. 
Material  greatness  gave  patronage  to  art  and  science.  Art 
and  science  did  not  corrupt  the  people  until  they  had  also 
become  corrupted.  But  prosperity  produced  idleness,  pride, 
and  sensuality,  by  which  science,  art,  and  literature  became 
Decline  of  tainted.  The  corruption  spread.  Society  was 
to1hfan-n  undermined,  and  the  arts  fell  with  the  people, 
cieat  races.  except  such  as  ministered  to  a  corrupt  taste,  like 
demoralizing  pictures  and  inflammatory  music.  Why  did 


CHAP,  xii.]    Decline  of  Civilization  in  Ancient  Races.    499 

not  the  arts  maintain  the  severity  of  the  Grecian  models  ? 
Why  did  philosophy  degenerate  to  Epicureanism  ?  Why 
did  poetry  condescend  to  such  trivial  subjects  as  hunting 
and  fishing  ?  Why  did  the  light  of  truth  become  dim  ? 
Why  were  the  great  principles  of  beauty  lost  sight  of? 
Why  the  discrepancy  between  the  laws  and  the  execution 
of  them  ?  Why  was  every  triumph  of  genius  perverted  ? 
It  was  because  men,  in  their  wickedness,  were  indifferent 
to  truth  and  virtue.  Good  men  had  made  good  laws  ;  bad 
men  perverted  them.  A  corrupted  civilization  hastened 
rather  than  retarded  the  downward  course,  and  civiliza 
tion  must  needs  become  corrupt  when  men  became  so.  We 
cannot  see  any  progress  in  peoples  without  moral  forces, 
and  these  do  not  originate  in  man.  They  may  be  retained 
a  long  time  among  a  people  ;  they  are  not  natural  to  them. 
They  are  given  to  them  ;  they  are  given  originally  by 
God.  They  are  the  fruit  of  his  revelations.  Neither  in 
the  wilderness  nor  in  the  crowded  city  are  they  naturally 
produced.  A  perfect  state  of  nature,  without  light  from 
Heaven,  is  extreme  rudeness,  poverty,  ignorance,  and  super 
stition,  where  brutal  passions  are  dominant  and  triumphant. 
The  vices  of  savages  are  as  fatal  as  the  vices  of  cities. 
They  equally  destroy  society.  Place  man  anywhere  on 
the  earth,  or  under  any  circumstances,  without  religious 
life,  and  moral  degradation  follows.  Whence  comes  relig 
ious  life?  Where  did  Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob, 
those  eastern  herdsmen  and  shepherds,  get  their  moral 
wisdom  ?  Surely  it  was  inherited  from  earlier  patriarchs, 
taught  them  by  their  fathers,  or  given  directly  from  God 
himself. 

The  most  that  can  be  said  of  a  primitive  state  of  society 
is  that  it  is  favorable  for  the  retention  of  religious     virtues  of 

0  .  primitive 

and  moral  truth,  more   so  than  populous  cities,      life. 
since  it  has  fewer  temptations  to  excite  the  passions.     But 
a  savage  in  any  country  will  remain  a  savage,  unless  he  is 
elevated  and  taught   through   influences   independent  of 


500     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xil. 

himself.  Hottentots  make  no  progress.  Greeks  made 
progress,  since  they  had  moral  wisdom  communicated  to 
them  by  their  ancestors  :  the  divine  light  struggled  with 
human  propensities.  When  outward  circumstances  were 
favorable  the  virtues  were  retained  ;  they  were  not  born, 
and  these  wrere  the  stimulus  to  all  improvement  ;  and 
when  they  were  lost,  all  improvement  that  is  real  van 
ished  away.  Civilization  is  the  fruit  of  man's  genius,  when 
man  is  virtuous.  But  it  does  not  renovate  races.  It  is 
only  religion  coming  from  God  wrhich  can  do  this. 

It  would  be  an  interesting  inquiry  how  far  the  religion 
of  the  old  Greeks  and  Romans  was  pure  —  how  far  it  was 
uncontaminated  by  superstitions.  I  think  it  would  be 
found  on  inquiry,  if  we  had  the  means  of  definite  knowl 
edge,  that  all  that  was  elevating  to  the  character  had  de 
scended  from  a  remote  antiquity,  and  that  the  superstitions 
with  which  it  was  blended  were  more  recent  inventions. 
The  ancestors  of  the  Greeks  were  probably  more  truly 
religious  than  the  Greeks  themselves.  And  as  new  reve 
lations  were  not  made  by  God,  the  primitive  revelations 
were  obscured  by  increasing  darkness,  until  superstition 
formed  the  predominant  element. 

Hence  the  revelations  of  God  can  only  be  preserved  in 
Christianity  a  written  form,  without  change  or  comment. 
^antiveCOD"  Christianity  is  perpetuated  by  the  Bible.  So 
long  as  the  Bible  exists  Christianity  will  have 
converts,  and  will  be  able  to  struggle  successfully  with  hu 
man  degeneracy.  The  revelations  originally  made  to  the 
eastern  nations  became  traditions.  The  standard  was  not 
preserved  in  a  written  form  to  which  the  people  had 
access. 

Moreover,  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  when  they  were 
most  virtuous,  when  they  were  in  a  state  to  produce  a 
civilization,  had  great  obstacles  to  surmount  and  difficulties 
to  contend  with.  These  ever  develop  genius  and  keep  down 
destructive  passions.  Strength  ever  comes  through  weak- 


CHAP.  XII.]          Primitive  Life  favors   Virtue.  501 

ness  and  dependence.  This  is  the  stern  condition  of  our 
moral  nature.  It  is  a  primeval  and  unalterable  la\v  that 
man  must  earn  his  living  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  even 
as  woman  can  only  be  happy  and  virtuous  when  her  will  is 
subject  to  that  of  her  husband.  A  condition  where  labor  is 
not  necessary  engenders  idleness,  sensuality,  indifference  to 
suffering,  self-indulgence,  and  a  conventional  hardness  that 
freezes  the  soul.  Never,  in  this  world,  have  more  Primitive 

life  favors 

exalted  virtues  been  brought  to  light  than  among  virtue. 
the  Puritans  in  their  cold  and  dreary  settlements  in  New 
England,  even  those  which  it  is  the  fashion  to  attribute  to 
congenial  climates  and  sunny  skies.  The  Puritan  charac 
ter  was  as  full  of  passion  as  it  was  of  sacrifice.  We  read 
of  the  existence  and  culture  of  friendship,  love,  and  social 
happiness  when  the  country  was  most  sterile,  and  the  diffi 
culty  of  earning  a  living  greatest.  There  was  an  outward 
starch  and  acerbity  produced  by  toil  and  danger.  But 
when  people  felt  they  could  unbend,  they  were  not  ice 
bergs  but  volcanoes,  because  the  fires  which  burned  unseen 
•were  those  of  the  soul.  The  mirth  of  wine  is  maudlin 
and  short-lived.  It  prompts  to  no  labor,  and  kindles  no 
sacrifices.  It  is  satanic  ;  it  blazes  and  dies,  a  horrid  mock 
ery,  exultant  and  evanescent.  But  the  joy  of  homes,  the 
beaming  face  of  forgiveness,  the  charity  which  covers  a 
multitude  of  faults,  the  assistance  rendered  in  hours  of 
darkness  and  difficulty,  enthusiasm  for  truth,  the  aspiration 
for  a  higher  life,  the  glorious  interchange  of  thoughts  and 
sentiments,  these  are  well-springs  of  life,  of  peace,  and  of 
power.  Nothing  is  to  be  relied  upon  which  does  not  stimu 
late  the  higher  faculties  of  the  mind  and  soul.  Ease  of 
living  blunts  the  moral  sensibilities,  and  even  the  beauty 
of  nature  is  not  appreciated,  when  "  all  save  the  spirit  of 
man  is  divine."  But  when  men  are  earnest  and  true,  un- 
corrupted  by  the  vices  of  self-interest,  and  unseduced  by 
the  pleasures  of  factitious  life,  then  even  nature,  in  all  her 
wildness,  is  a  teacher  and  an  inspiration.  The  grand  land- 


502     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.  [CHAP.  xii. 

scape,  the  rugged  rocks,  the  mystic  forests,  and  the  lofty 
mountains,  barren  though  they  be,  bring  out  higher  senti 
ments  than  the  smiling  vineyard,  or  the  rich  orange-grove, 
or  the  fertile  corn-field,  where  slaves  do  the  labor,  and 
lazy  proprietors  recline  on  luxurious  couches  to  take  their 
mid-day  sleep,  or  toy  with  frivolous  voluptuousness.  Neither 
a  great  nor  a  rich  country  is  anything,  if  only  pride  and 
folly  are  fostered  ;  while  isolation,  poverty,  and  physical 
discomfort,  if  accompanied  by  piety  and  resignation,  are 
frequently  the  highest  boons  which  Providence  bestows  to 
Evils  of  keep  men  in  mind  of  Him.  Prosperity  may  have 
prosperity.  been  ^Q  blessing  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  ad 
versity  is  the  blessing  of  the  New  —  the  mysterious  benedic 
tion  of  Christ  and  Apostles  and  martyrs.  A  rich  country 
does  not  make  great  men,  except  in  craft  or  politics  or 
business  calculations  ;  nor  is  there  a  more  subtle  falsehood 
than  that  which  builds  a  nation's  hope  on  the  extent  of  its 
prairies,  or  the  deep  soil  of  its  valleys,  or  the  rich  mines 
of  its  mountains,  or  the  great  streams  which  bear  its  wealth 
to  the  ocean.'  Mr.  Buckle,  fallaciously  and  so- 


orityof  the  .  .  VIP 

early  to  the    phistically,  instances  li<£;ypt  as  peculiarly  fortunate 

later  Greeks 

in  virtue.  and  happy,  because  it  possessed  the  Nile  ;  but  all 
that  was  glorious  in  Egypt  passed  away  before  authentic 
history  was  written,  while  Greece,  with  her  barren  moun 
tains,  laid  the  foundation  of  all  that  was  valuable  in  the 
ancient  civilization.  What  survives  of  Carthage  or  An- 
tioch  or  Tyre  that  society  now  cherishes  ?  Yet  much  may 
be  traced  to  Greece  when  the  people  were  poor,  and  strug 
gling  with  the  waves  and  the  forests.  It  is  not  nature  that 
ennobles  man  ;  it  is  man  that  consecrates  nature.  The 
development  of  mind  is  greater  than  the  development  of 
material  resources.  True  greatness  is  not  in  an  easy  life, 
but  in  the  struggle  against  nature  and  the  victory  over  ad 
verse  influences.  Even  in  our  own  country,  it  will  be 
seen  that  schools  and  colleges  and  religious  institutions 
have  more  frequently  flourished  when  the  people  were 


CHAP,  xii.]         Failure  of  Military  Strength.  503 

poor  and  industrious  than  when  they  were  rich  and  prodi 
gal.  Why  has  New  England  produced  so  many  educators  ? 
Why  is  h  that  so  few  eminent  men  of  genius  and  learn- 
incr  have  arisen  out  of  the  turmoil  and  vanity  of  prosperous 
cities  ?  Why  is  it  that  money  cannot  create  a  college,  and 
is  useless  unless  there  is  a  vitality  among  its  professors  and 
students  ?  The  condition  of  national  greatness  is  the  same 
as  that  seen  in  the  rise  and  fortunes  of  individuals.  In 
dustry,  honesty,  and  patience  are  greater  than  banks  and 
storehouses.  Character,  even  in  a  wicked  and  busy  city, 
is  of  more  value  than  money. 

These  truths  are  most  emphatically  illustrated  by  the 
civilization  of  the  Romans.  We  are  attracted  by  the  glitter 
and  the  glare  of  arts  and  sciences.  Let  us  see  what  they 
did  for  Rome,  when  Rome  became  degenerate.  Let  us 
review  the  chapters  that  have  been  written  in  this  book. 
We  point  with  pride  to  the  trophies  of  genius  and  strength. 
We  do  not  disparage  them.  They  were  human  creations. 
Let  us  see  how  far  they  had  a  force  to  save. 

The  first  great  development  of  genius  among  the  Ro 
mans  was  military  strength.  We  are  dazzled  by  the  glory 
of  warlike  deeds.  We  see  a  grand  army,  the  power  of 
the  legions,  the  science  of  war.  Why  did  not  military 
organizations  save  the  empire  in  the  hour  of  trial  ? 

The  legions  who  went  forth   to  battle  in  the  days  of 
Aurelian  and  Severus,  were  not  such  as  marched  The  Roma^ 
under  Marius  and  Caesar.     The  soldiers  of  the  republic 
republic  went  forth  to  battle  expecting  death,  and  ready 
to  die.     The  sacrifice  of  life  in  battle  was  the  great  idea  of 
a  Roman  hero,  as  it  was  of  a  Germanic  barbarian.     With 
out  this  idea  deeply  impressed  upon  a  soldier's  mind,  there 
can  be  no  true  military  enthusiasm.     It  has  characterized 
all    conquering   races.      Mere  mechanism   cannot   do  the 
work  of  life.     Under  the  empire,  the  army  was  mere  ma 
chinery.     It  had  lost  its  ancient  spirit ;  it  was  not  inspired 
by  patriotic  glory  ;  it  maintained  the  defensive. 


504     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xii. 

zens  were  unwilling  to  enlist,  and  the  ranks  were  gradually 
filled  with  the  very  barbarians  against  whom  the  Romans 
had  formerly  contended.  The  army  was  virtually  com 
posed  of  mercenaries  from  all  nations,  adventurers  who 
had  nothing  to  lose,  who  had  but  little  to  gain.  They 
were  turbulent  and  rebellious.  Revolts  among  the  sol- 

O 

diers  were  common.  They  brought  new  vices  to  the 
Decline  of  camps,  and  learned  in  addition  all  the  vices  of 
virtues.  the  Romans.  They  were  greedy,  unreliable,  and 
cherished  concealed  enmities.  They  had  no  common  in 
terest  or  bond  of  union.  They  were  always  ready  for 
revolt,  and  gave  away  the  highest  prizes  to  fortunate  gen 
erals.  They  sold  the  imperial  dignity,  and  became  the 
masters  rather  than  the  servants  of  the  emperors.  Dio 
cletian  was  obliged  to  disband  the  Praetorian  band.  The 
infantry,  which  had  penetrated  the  Macedonian  phalanx, 
threw  away  their  defensive  armor,  and  were  changed  to 
troops  of  timid  horsemen,  whose  chief  weapon  was  the 
bow.  And  they  wasted  their  strength  in  civil  contests  more 
than  against  bai  baric  foes.  They  no  longer  swam  rivers, 
or  climbed  mountains,  or  marched  with  a  burden  of  eighty 
pounds.  They  scorned  their  ancient  fare  and  their  ancient 
pay.  They  sought  pleasure  and  dissipation.  The  expense 
of  maintaining  the  army  kept  pace  with  its  inefficiency. 
Soldiers  were  a  nuisance  wherever  they  were  located,  and 
fanned  disturbances  and  mobs.  Their  license  and  robbery 
made  them  as  much  to  be  dreaded  by  friends  as  by  ene 
mies.  They  assassinated  the  emperors  when  they  failed  to 
comply  with  their  exorbitant  demands.  They  often  sym 
pathized  with  the  very  enemies  whom  they  ought  to  have 
fought.  Enfeebled,  treacherous,  without  public  spirit,  car- 
Degeneracy  ing  nothing  for  the  empire,  degenerate,  they 
legions.  were  thus  unable  to  resist  the  shock  of  their 
savage  enemies.  Finally,  they  could  not  even  maintain 
order  in  the  provinces.  "  There  was  not,"  says  Gibbon, 
"  a  single  province  in  the  empire  in  which  a  uniform  gov- 


CHAP,  xii.]  Degeneracy  of  the  Legions. 

eminent  was  maintained,  or  in  which  man  could  look  for 
protection  from  his  fellow  man."    What  could  be  hoped  of 
an  empire  when  people  were  unwilling  to  enlist,  and  when 
troops  had  lost  the  prestige  of  victory  ?    The  details  of  the 
military  history  of  the  latter  Romans  are  most  sickening  — 
revolts,  rival  generals,  an  enfeebled  central  power,  turbu 
lence,  anarchy.     Even  military  obedience  was  weakened. 
What  would  Caesar  have  thought  of  the  soldiers  of  Valen- 
tinian  siding  with  the  clergy  of  Milan,  when  Ambrose  was 
threatened  with  imperial  vengeance  ?     What  would  Tibe 
rius  have  thought  of  the  seditions  of  Constantinople,  when 
the  most  trusted  soldiers  demanded  the  head  of  a  minister 
they  detested  ?     Where   was    the    power  of  mechanism, 
without  genius  to  direct  it?     What  could  besieged  cities 
do,  when   treachery  opened  the   gates  ?     The  empire  fell 
because  no   one  would   belong  to  it.     How  impotent  the 
army,  without  spirit  or  courage,  when  the  hardy  races  of 
the  North,  adventurous  and   daring,  were  pouring  down 
upon  the  provinces  —  men  who  feared  not  death  ;  men  who 
gloried  in  their  very  losses !     The  legions  became  utterly 
unequal  to  their  task  ;  they  were  recalled  from  the  distant 
provinces  in  the  greater  danger  of  the  capitals  ;  and  the 
boundaries   of  the    empire   were   left   without   protectors. 
The  empire  was  created  by  strength,  enthusiasm,  and  cour 
age  ;   when  these  failed,  it  melted  away.     And  even  if  the 
old  discipline  were  maintained,  how  inadequate  the  army 
against  the  overwhelming  tide  of  barbarians,  fully  armed, 
and  bent  on   conquest.     In  all   the  victories  of  Valerian, 
Constantine,  and  Theodosius,  we  see  only  the  flickering 
lights   of  departing   glory.     Military  genius,  united    with 
patriotism,  might  have  delayed  the  fall,  but  where  was  the 
glory  of  the  legions  in  those  last  days  ?     Military  science 
belonged  to  the  republic,  not  the  empire.     One  reason  why 
the  army  did  not  save  the  empire  was,  because  there  was 
no  army  capable  of  meeting  the  exigencies  of  the  fourth 
and   fifth  centuries.       It    was  corrupted,   perverted,    con 
quered. 


506     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XII. 

Nor  could  any  army,  however  strong,  do  more  than  prop 
The  hopeless   up  existing  institutions.     These  themselves  were 

imbecility  of  . 

the  army  rotten.  Despotism  cannot  save  a  state.  The 
emperors.  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  was  one  of  the  most  brill 
iant  in  modern  annals.  But  no  reign  ever  more  signally 
undermined  the  state.  It  is  the  patriotism  of  soldiers  that 
saves,  not  their  physical  force.  Their  force  can  be  turned 
against  the  interests  of  a  state  as  well  as  employed  in  its 
favor.  Despotism  sows  the  seeds  of  future  ruin.  No  state 
was  ever  supported  by  military  strength,  except  for  a  time, 
and  then  only  when  the  soldiery  were  animated  by  noble 
sentiments.  The  imperial  forces  of  Rome,  while  they  pre 
served  the  throne  of  absolutisms,  destroyed  the  self-reliance 
of  the  citizens,  and  supported  wicked  institutions.  The 
difference  in  the  aims  of  government  under  the  Caesars, 
and  under  the  consuls,  was  heaven-wide.  The  military 
genius  which  created  an  empire,  was  misdirected  when 
that  empire  sought  to  perpetuate  wrong.  How  different  is 
the  spirit  which  animated  the  armies  of  the  United  States, 
when  they  sought  to  preserve  the  institutions  of  liberty 
and  the  integrity  of  the  state,  from  that  spirit  which  ani 
mates  the  armies  of  the  Sultan  of  Turkey !  The  Roman 
empire  under  the  later  emperors  was  more  like  the  Otto 
man  empire,  than  the  republic  in  the  days  of  Cato.  It  was 
sick,  and  must  die.  A  great  army  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  despotism  generates  more  evils  than  it  cures.  It  eats  out 
the  vitals  of  strength,  and  poisons  the  sources  of  renova 
tion.  It  suppresses  every  generous  insurrection  of  human 
intelligence.  It  merely  arms  tyrants  with  the  power  to 
crush  genius  and  patriotism.  It  prevents  the  healthful 
development  of  energies  in  useful  channels.  The  most 
that  can  be  said  in  favor  of  the  armies  of  the  empire  is, 
that  they  preserved  for  a  time  the  decaying  body.  They 
could  not  restore  vitality  ;  they  warded  off  the  blows  of 
fate.  They  could  only  keep  the  empire  from  falling  until 
the  forces  of  enemies  were  organized.  No  generalship 


CHAP,  xii.]         Subversion  of  the  Constitution.  507 

could   have  saved   Rome.      The  great  military  emperors 
must  have  felt  that  they  were  powerless  against  Despair  of 

4/1  c  the  military 

the  combination  of  barbaric  forces.  The  soul  emperors. 
of  Theodosius  must  have  sunk  within  him  to  see  how  fruit 
less  were  his  victories,  how  barren  any  victories  to  such  a 
diseased  and  crumbling  empire.  Diocletian  retired,  in  the 
plenitude  of  his  power,  to  die  of  a  broken  heart.  The  ut 
most  the  emperors  could  do,  was  to  erect  on  the  banks  of 
the  Bosphorus  a  new  capital,  and  virtually  make  a  new 
combination  of  those  provinces  most  removed  from  dan 
ger.  The  old  capital  was  abandoned  to  its  fate. 

The  elaborate  and  complicated  constitution  of  the  Ro 
mans,  on  which  so  much  genius  and  experience  TheR0man 
were  employed,  ivas  subverted  when  Caesar  constit 
passed  the  Rubicon.  Only  forms  remained,  a  bitter  mock 
ery,  and  a  thin  disguise.  These  were  nothing.  Neither 
consuls,  nor  praetors,  nor  pontiffs,  nor  censors,  nor  tribunes 
existed,  except  in  name.  Every  office  of  the  republic  was 
absorbed  in  the  imperial  despotism.  The  glorious  constitu 
tion,  which  gave  authority  to  Cato  and  dignity  to  Cicero, 
was  a  dead-letter.  Flatterers,  and  sycophants,  and  court 
iers,  took  the  place  of  senators.  The  imperial  despotism 
crushed  out  every  element  of  popular  power,  every  protest 
of  patriots,  every  gush  of  enthusiasm.  The  constitution 
could  not  save  when  it  was  itself  lost.  Never  was  there  a 
more  wanton  and  determined  disregard  of  those  great  rights 
for  which  the  nations  had  bled,  than  under  the  emperors. 
Every  conservative  influence  that  came  from  the  people 
was  hopelessly  suppressed.  The  reign  of  beneficent  em 
perors,  like  the  Antonines,  and  of  monsters  like  Nero  and 
Caracalla,  was  alike  fatal.  The  seal  of  political  ruin  was 
set  when  Augustus  was  most  potent  and  most  feared. 
Government  simply  meant  an  organized  mechanism  of 
oppression.  There  is  nothing  conservative  in  government 
which  does  not  have  in  view  the  interests  of  the  governed. 
When  it  is  merely  used  to  augment  gigantic  fortunes,  or 


508     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xir. 

create  inequalities,  or  encourage  frivolities,  and  allows  great 
evils  to  go  unredressed,  then  its  very  mechanism  becomes 
a  refinement  of  despotic  cruelty.  When  sycophants,  jest 
ers,  flatterers,  and  panderers  to  passions  become  the  recipi 
ents  of  court  favor,  and  control  the  hand  that  feeds  them, 
then  there  is  no  responsible  authority.  The  very  worst 
government  is  that  of  favorites,  and  that  was  the  govern 
ment  of  Rome,  when  only  courtiers  could  gain  the  ear  of 
the  sovereign,  and  when  it  was  for  their  interest  to  cover 
up  crimes.  What  must  have  been  the  government  when 
even  Seneca  accumulated  one  of  the  largest  fortunes  of 
antiquity  as  minister?  What  must  have  been  the  court 
infamy  of  when  such  women  as  Messalina  and  Agrippina 
regime.  controlled  its  councils  ?  The  ascendency  of 
women  and  sycophants  is  infinitely  worse  than  the  arbi 
trary  rule  of  stern  but  experienced  generals.  The  whole 
empire  was  ransacked  for  the  private  pleasure  of  the  em 
perors,  and  those  who  surrounded  them.  "  ISetat,  Jest 
moi,"  was  the  motto  of  every  emperor  from  Augustus  to 
Theodosius.  With  such  a  spirit,  so  monopolizing  and  so 
proud,  the  rights  of  subjects  were  lost  in  an  all-controlling 
despotism,  which  crushed  out  both  grand  sentiments  and 
noble  deeds.  None  could  rise  but  those  who  administered 
to  the  pleasures  of  the  emperor.  All  were  sure  to  fall 
who  opposed  his  will.  From  this  there  was  no  escape. 
Resistance  was  ruin.  There  was  a  perfect  system  of  es 
pionage  established  in  every  part  of  the  empire,  and  it  was 
impossible  to  fly  from  the  agents  of  imperial  vengeance. 
And  the  despotism  of  the  emperors  was  particularly  hate 
ful,  since  it  veiled  its  powers  under  the  forms  of  the  an 
cient  republic,  until  in  the  very  wantonness  of  its  vast 
prerogatives  it  threw  away  its  vain  disguises,  and  openly 
and  insultingly  reveled  on  the  forced  contributions  of  the 
Abortive  world.  There  were  good  and  wise  emperors 
wno  sought  the  welfare  of  the  state,  but  these 
were  exceptions  to  the  general  rule.  Octavius, 


CHAP,  xii.]      Abortive  Attempts  of  good  Emperors.         509 

that  Ulysses  of  state  craft,  checked  open  immoralities  by 
legal  enactments,  discouraged  celibacy,  expelled  unworthy 
members  from  the  Senate,  appointed  able  ministers  and 
governors,  and  sought  to  prevent  corruption,  which  was 
then  so  shameful.  Vespasian  introduced  a  severe  military 
discipline  among  the  legions,  permitted  citizens  to  have  free 
access  to  his  person,  and  promoted  many  great  objects  of 
public  utility. 

Hadrian  attempted  to  give  dignity  to  the  Senate,  and 
visited  in  person  nearly  all  the  provinces  of  his 

...-.,  ,    >         >  -a       Hadrian. 

empire,  impartially  administered  justice,  magnifi 
cently  patronized  art,  and  encouraged  the  loftiest  form  of 
Greek  philosophy.  Antoninus  Pius  and  Marcus  Aure- 
lius  set,  in  their  own  lives,  examples  of  the  sternest  virtue, 
although  they  were  deceived  in  the  character  of  those  to 
whom  they  delegated  their  powers,  and  were  even  ruled 
by  unworthy  favorites.  Marcus  Aurelius  was,  Marcus 
after  all,  the  finest  character  of  antiquity  who  Aurelius- 
was  intrusted  with  absolute  power.  Contrasted  with  Solo 
mon,  or  Augustus,  or  even  Theodosius,  he  was  a  model 
prince,  for  he  had  every  facility  of  indulging  his  passions, 
but  his  passions  he  restrained,  and  lived  a  life  of  the  se 
verest  temperance  and  virtue  to  the  end,  sustained  by  the 
severest  doctrines  of  the  Stoical  school.  All  that  his  rigid 
severity  and  moral  elevation  could  do  to  save  a  decaying 
empire  was  done.  He  sought  to  base  the  stability  of  the 
throne  on  a  rigid  morality,  on  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice. 
When  only  twelve,  he  adopted  the  garb  and  the  austerities 
of  a  phil  sopher,  believing  in  virtue  for  its  own  sake. 

From  his  earliest  youth  he  associated  with  his  instructors 
in  the  greatest  freedom,  and  it  was  the  happiness  of  his  life 
to  reward  philosophers  and  scholars.  He  promoted  men  of 
learning  to  the  highest  dignities  of  the  empire,  and  even 
showed  the  greatest  reverence  for  the  cultivation  of  the 
mind.  Philosophy  was  the  great  object  of  his  zeal,  but  he 
also  gave  his  attention  to  all  branches  of  science,  to  law, 


510     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.   [CHAP  xir. 

to  music,  and  to  poetry.  His  disposition  was  kind  and 
amiable,  and  he  succeeded  in  acquiring  that  self-command 
and  composure  which  it  was  the  professed  object  of  the 
Stoics  to  secure.  He  was  firm  without  being  obstinate, 
gentle  without  being  weak.  He  was  modest,  retiring,  and 
studious.  He  believed  that  it  was  necessary  for  good  gov 
ernment  that  rulers  should  be  under  the  dominion  of  phi 
losophy.  He  was  so  universally  beloved  and  esteemed,  that 
everybody  who  could  afford  it  had  his  statue  in  his  house. 
No  man  on  a  throne  was  ever  held  in  such  profound  ven 
eration.  If  ever  there  was,  in  a  heathen  country,  an  ex 
ample  of  sublime  virtue,  it  shone  in  the  life  of  Marcus 
Aurelius  ;  if  ever  there  was  an  expression  of  supernal 
beauty,  it  was  in  his  features  beaming  with  love  and  gen 
tleness  and  humility.  He  never  neglected  the  duties  of 
his  office.  He  was  noble  in  all  the  relations  of  a  family. 
He  was  the  model  of  an  emperor.  He  only  complained  of 
want  of  time  to  prosecute  his  literary  labors.  He  was 
probably  the  most  learned  man  in  his  dominions.  The 
Romans  called  him  brother  and  father,  and  the  Senate  felt 
that  its  ancient  dignity  was  restored.  He  had  great  causes 
of  unhappiness.  The  barbarians  invaded  his  territories ; 
a  long  peace  had  destroyed  martial  energies  ;  the  Roman 
world  was  sinking  into  languor  and  decay  ;  his  adoptive 
brother  Verus  lived  in  luxury  and  dissoluteness  ;  his  wife 
Faustina  was  a  second  Messalina,  abandoned  to  promiscu 
ous  profligacy  ;  a  pestilence  ravaged  Asia  Minor,  Greece, 
Italy,  and  Gaul,  still  this  great  man  preserved  his  serenity, 
his  virtues,  and  his  fame.  He  was  unseduced  by  any  kind 
of  mortal  temptation,  and  left  an  unstained  character,  and 
an  unrivaled  veneration  for  his  memory.  And  when  we 
consider  that  he  was  the  absolute  master  of  one  hundred 
and  twenty  millions,  having  at  his  disposal  the  riches  of  the 
world,  and  all  its  pleasures,  —  above  public  opinion,  with 
no  law  to  check  him  —  a  law  only  to  himself,  we  find  more 
to  admire  than  in  Solomon  before  his  fall.  Sis  meditations 


CHAP,  xii.]  Military  Emperors. 

have  lately  been  translated  and  published  —  a  work  full  of 
moral  wisdom,  rivaling  Epictetus  in  morality,  and  the  sages 
of  the  Middle  Ages  in  contemplative  piety.  Niebuhr  says 
it  is  more  delightful  to  speak  of  him  than  of  any  man  in 
history.  The  historical  critic  can  see  but  one  defect  —  his 
persecution  of  the  Christians.  He  was  doubtless  a  bigoted 
Stoic,  as  Paul  was,  at  one  time,  a  bigoted  Pharisee  ;  and 
the  great  delusion  of  his  life  was  to  rear  a  basis  of  national 
prosperity  on  the  sublime  morality  of  the  philosophers 
whom  he  copied.  He  sought  to  save  the  state  by  the 
Stoical  philosophy.  Never  were  nobler  efforts  put  forth 
on  the  part  of  a  philosophic  prince  ;  but  neither  his  patron 
age  of  philosophers,  nor  his  own  bright  example,  nor  the 
doctrines  of  the  Porch,  conservative  as  they  are,  were  of 
any  avail.  The  Roman  world  could  not  be  saved  by  the 
philosophy  of  Aurelius  any  more  easily  than  the  imperial 
despotism  could  be  averted  by  the  patriotism  of  Cicero. 
He  was  succeeded,  after  a  glorious  reign  of  twenty  years, 
by  his  son  Commodus,  as  incapable  of  managing  an  empire 
as  Rehoboam  was  the  kingdom  of  his  father  Solomon. 
Thus  are  the  schemes  and  enterprises  of  the  best  men 
baffled  by  a  mysterious  power  above  us,  who  holds  in  his 
own  hands  the  destinies  of  nations  —  the  Divine  Provi 
dence  who  giveth  and  who  withholdeth  strength. 

Marcus  Aurelius  did  all  that  human  virtue  could  do  to 
arrest  the  ruin  which  he  saw,  with  the  saddest  grief,  was 
impending  over  the  empire,  in  spite  of  all  the  external  pros 
perity  which  called  forth  such  universal  panegyric.  And 
the  empire  was  also  favored  by  a  succession  of  military 
emperors,  who  tried  the  force  of  arms,  as  Aurelius  had 
philosophy. 

Never  did  abler  men  reign  on  an  absolute  throne.  All 
that  genius  and  experience  and  skill  could  do  to  arrest  the 
waves  of  the  barbarians  was  done.  A  succession  of  most 
brilliant  victories  marked  these  later  days  of  Rome.  Amid 
unparalleled  disasters,  there  were  also  most  memorable  tri- 


512     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XII. 

umphs.  The  glory  of  the  Roman  name  was  revived  in 
Claudius,  Aurelian,  Probus,  Carus,  Diocletian,  Constantms, 
Galerius,  Constantine,  Julian,  all  of  whom  rendered  im 
portant  services.  These  great  emperors  were  uniformly 
victors,  yet  were  doomed  to  hurl  back  perpetually  ad 
vancing  forces  of  Teutonic  warriors,  who  were  resolved  on 
conquest.  Diocletian  was  a  second  Augustus,  and  Con 
stantine  another  Julius.  But  their  conquests  and  recon 
structions  were  all  in  vain.  The  barbarians  advanced. 
They  were  getting  more  and  more  powerful  with  defeat ; 
the  Romans  weaker  and  weaker  after  victory.  In  the 
middle  of  the  fourth  century  the  Goths  were  firmly  set 
tled  in  Dacia,  the  Persians  had  recovered  the  provinces 
between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  Gaul  was  invaded 
by  Germans,  the  Saxons  had  ravaged  Britain,  the  Scots 
and  Picts  had  spread  themselves  from  the  wall  of  Antoni 
nus  to  the  shores  of  Kent,  Africa  had  revolted,  Sapor  had 
broken  his  treaties,  the  Goths  had  crossed  the  Danube, 
the  Emperor  Valens  had  been  slain,  with  sixty  thousand 
infantry  and  six  thousand  cavalry.  From  the  shores  of  the 
Bosphorus  to  the  Julian  Alps,  nothing  was  to  be  seen  but 
rapes,  murders,  and  conflagrations.  Palaces  were  de 
stroyed,  churches  were  turned  into  stables,  the  relics  of 
martyrs  were  desecrated,  women  were  ravished,  bishops 
were  praying  in  despair,  cities  had  fallen,  the  country  was 
laid  waste  ;  the  desolation  extended  to  fishes  and  birds. 
Fruitful  fields  became  pastures,  or  were  overgrown  with 
forests.  The  day  of  ruin  was  at  hand.  There  was  needed 
a  hero  to  arise,  a  deliverer,  a  second  Moses.  And  a  great 
man  appeared  in  the  person  of  Theodosius  —  the  most  able 
and  valiant  of  all  the  emperors  after  Julius  Caasar. 

The  career  of  Theodosius  is  exceedingly  interesting,  since 
it  shows  that  every  thing  which  imperial  genius 

Theodosius.  J    .  l     . 

could  do  to  arrest  ruin,  was  done  by  him. 
Theodosius    was  thirty-three  years    of  age  when  sum 
moned    from    retirement   to  govern  the  world.     He   had 


CHAP,  xii.]  Theodosius.  513 

learned  the  art  of  war  from  his  father  in  Britain,  and  had, 
in  his  lifetime,  defeated  the  Sarmatians.  The  Romans, 
disheartened  by  the  tremendous  defeat  they  had  sustained 
under  the  walls  of  Adrianople,  and  the  death  of  Valens 
the  emperor,  had  no  longer  the  courage  to  brave  the  Goths 
in  the  open  field,  and  Theodosius  was  too  prudent  to  lead 
them  against  a  triumphant  enemy.  He  retired  to  Thessa- 
lonica  to  watch  the  barbarians.  In  four  years  lie  had 
revived  the  courage  of  his  troops,  even  as  Alfred  sub 
sequently  rekindled  the  martial  ardor  of  the  Saxons  after 
their  defeat  by  the  Danes.  On  the  death  of  Fritigern, 
the  first  great  historic  name  among  the  Visigoths,  his  sol 
diers  were  demoralized,  and  divided  by  jealousies,  and 
were  won  over  by  the  arts  and  statesmanship  of  Theodo 
sius,  and  a  treaty  was  made  with  them  by  which  they 
obtained  a  settlement  within  the  limits  of  the  empire,  and 
became  the  allies  of  the  emperor.  The  Ostrogoths  were 
soon  after  defeated  in  a  decisive  battle  on  the  Danube,  and 
all  fears  were  removed,  at  least  for  the  present,  of  these 
hostile  barbarians. 

Theodosius  was  equally  fortunate  in  his  conflicts  with 
Maximus,  who  had  usurped  the  provinces  of  Gaul,  Spain, 
and  Britain,  and  who  meditated  the  conquest  of  Italy.  At 
Aquileia  the  usurper  was  seized,  after  a  succession  of  de 
feats,  stripped  of  his  imperial  ornaments,  and  delivered  to 
the  executioner,  and  Theodosius  reigned  without  a  rival  in 
the  renovated  empire,  practicing  the  virtues  of  domestic 
life,  rewarding  eminent  merit,  and  protecting  the  interests 
of  the  church.  He  restored  the  authority  of  the  laws,  and 
corrected  the  abuses  of  the  preceding  reigns.  Whatever 
rival  or  enemy,  in  those  distracted  times,  raised  himself 
up  against  the  imperial  authority,  was  easily  subdued.  Eu- 
genius  met  the  fate  of  Maximus,  and  Arbogastes  turned 
his  sword  against  his  own  breast.  Theodosius  reigned  in 
peace  and  wisdom,  the  idol  of  the  church,  and  the  object 
of  fear  to  the  barbaric  world.  He  had  his  defects  and 


514     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xn. 

vices,  and  committed  errors  and  crimes,  but  his  reign  was 
beneficent,  and  the  Christian  world  hoped  that  the  evils 
which  threatened  the  empire  were  removed.    Alas,  the  em 
pire  was  doomed.     The  death  of  Theodosius  was  the  signal 
successors  of  f°r  renewed  hostilities.     His  sons,  the  feeble  Ar- 
cadius  and  Honorius,  were  unequal  to  the  task  of 
governing  the  empire,  and  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  bar 
barians,  who  ruthlessly  marched  over  the  crumblings  ruins, 
regardless  of  the  treasures  of  the   classic   soil  and  of  the 
guardians  which  Christianity  presented  in  the  presence  of 
protesting  bishops.     The  empire   could  not  be   saved  by 
able  emperors,  however  great  their  military  genius.    Abso 
lutism,   whether  wielded   by  tyrants,  or   philosophers,  or 
generals,  was  alike  a  failure.      What  hope  for  the  empire 
when  the  Senate  inculcated  maxims  of  passive  obedience 
to  tyrants;  when  such   lawyers  as   Papinias  and   Paulus 
declared  that    emperors    were    freed    from  all  restraints? 
What  could  Alexander  Severus   do  when  the  most  illus 
trious    man    in  the    empire  —  the    learned    and  immortal 
Ulpian  —  was  murdered    before  his  eyes   by  the  guards, 
of  which    he    was  the    prefect,    and    when    such  was  the 
license  of  the  soldiers,  that  the  emperor  could  neither  re 
venge  his  murdered  friend,  nor  his  insulted  dignity ;  when 
his  own  life  was  sacrificed  to  the  discontents  of  an  army 
which  had  become  the  master  of  the  emperors  themselves  ? 
After  the  murder  of  this  brave  and  enlightened  prince,  no 
emperor  was  safe  upon  his  throne,  or  could  do  more  than 
oppose   a  feeble  barrier  to  the  barbarians  upon   the  fron 
tiers.    External  dangers  may  have  raised  up  able  command 
ers,   like   Decius,  Aurelian,  and  Probus  ;  but   they  could 
not  prevent  the  inroads  of  the  Goths,  or  heal  the  miseries 
of  society.     Of  the  nineteen  tyrants  who  arose  during  the 
reign  of  Gallienus,  not  one  died  a  natural  death.     And 
when,  after  a   disgraceful  period  of  calamities,  Diocletian 
ascended   the   throne,  the  ablest  perhaps  of  all 
the   emperors   after  Augustus,   no   talents  could 


Diocletian. 


CHAP,  xii.]  Jurisprudence.  515 

sustain  the  weight  of  public  administration,  and  even  this 
emperor  attempted  to  extinguish  the  only  influence  that 
had  power  to  save.  Absolutism  had  sowed  seeds  of  ruin, 
which  were  destined  to  bear  most  wretched  fruit. 

Jurisprudence  was  the  science  of  which  the  Romans 
have  the  most  to  boast ;  and  this  was  not  per-  Roma^m^. 
fected  until  the  time  of  the  emperors.  It  was  Prudence- 
closely  connected  with  the  constitution,  but  was  superior  to 
it,  since  it  was  based  upon  the  principles  of  natural  jus 
tice  or  equity.  This  has  lasted  when  all  material  great 
ness  has  vanished,  and  still  forms  the  basis  of  the  laws  of 
European  nations.  This  was  a  great  element  of  civilization 
itself ;  it  was  part  of  the  mechanism  of  social  order  ;  it 
pervaded  all  parts  of  the  empire  ;  it  made  the  reign  of 
tyrants  endurable. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  excellence  of  the  laws  formed 
one  of  the  most  powerful  conservative  influences  of  pagan 
antiquity.  We  glory  in  those  laws  as  one  of  the  proudest 
achievements  of  the  human  mind.  But  laws  are  rather 
an  exponent  of  the  state  of  society  than  a  controlling  force 
which  modifies  it.  If  a  murderer  is  to  be  hung,  or  a  thief 
imprisoned,  the  rigid  law  shows  simply  no  mercy  to  mur 
derers  and  thieves  ;  it  does  not  create  a  sentiment  which 
prevents,  though  it  may  punish,  iniquity.  The  wise  divis 
ion  of  property  among  heirs  may  operate  against  injurious 
accumulations,  but  does  not  prevent  disproportionate  for 
tunes.  The  more  complicated  the  jurisprudence,  the  more 
need  it  seems  that  society  has  of  restraints  and  balances. 
The  law  cannot  go  higher  than  the  fountain.  The  more 
perfect  the  state  of  society,  the  less  need  there  is  of  laws. 
The  cautious  guards  against  fraud  simply  show  that  frauds 
are  common  and  easy.  The  minute  regulations  in  refer 
ence  to  the  protection  of  property  and  contracts,  show  that 
the  prevailing  customs  and  habits  of  dealers  were  corrupt, 
and  needed  the  strong  arm  of  a  protecting  government.  As 
a  general  thing,  it  will  be  found  that  the  laws  are  best,  and 


516     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.  [CHAP.  XIT. 

most  rigidly  enforced,  when  iniquity  prevails.  A  man  is 
safe  in  Paris  when  he  is  not  in  Boston,  but  we  do  not  infer 
from  this  fact  that  society  is  higher,  but  that  there  is  a 
sterner  necessity  on  the  part  of  government  to  restrain 
crime.  The  la\\s  of  the  Romans  give  the  impression  of 
the  necessity  of  a  constant  watchfulness  and  supervision  to 
prevent  the  strong  preying  upon  the  weak.  Other  influ 
ences  are  more  necessary  than  laws  to  keep  men  virtuous 
and  orderly.  Laws  are  necessary,  indeed  ;  but  they  are 
not  the  first  conditions  of  social  existence. 

But  what  are  we  to  think  of  laws  when  they  are  either 
Perrersionof  evaded  or  perverted,  when  there  is  not  wisdom 
the  laws.  to  feej  their  justice,  or  virtue  to  execute  them  ? 
What  are  laws  if  judges  are  corrupt  ?  The  venality  of 
the  judges  of  Rome  was  proverbial.  Even  in  the  com 
paratively  virtuous  age  of  Cicero,  a  friend  wrote  to  him 
not  to  recall  a  certain  great  functionary,  since  he  himself 
was  implicated  in  his  robberies,  and  the  request  was 
granted.  The  empire  was  regarded  as  spoil,  and  the 
provinces  were  robbed  of  their  most  valuable  treasures. 
Witness  the  extortions  of  Verres  in  Sicily,  when  a  resi 
dence  of  two  years  was  enough  to  make  the  fortune  of  a 
provincial  governor.  Nor  was  Roman  law  ever  indepen 
dent  of  political  power.  The  praetors  were  politicians 
having  ambitious  aims  beyond  the  exercise  of  judicial 
authority.  Influential  men  could  ever  buy  verdicts,  and 
the  government  winked  at  the  infamy.  There  was  justice 
in  the  abstract,  but  not  in  the  reality.  And  when  juris 
prudence  became  complicated,  judgments  were  made  on 
technical  points  rather  than  on  principles  of  equity.  It 
was  as  ruinous  to  go  to  law  at  Rome  as  in  London.  Law 
yers  absorbed  the  money  at  issue  by  their  tricks  and  de 
lays.  They  made  the  practice  of  their  noble  profession 
obscure  and  uncertain.  Clients  danced  attendance  on 
eminent  jurists,  and  received  promises,  smiles,  and  oyster- 
shells.  It  was,  too,  often  better  to  submit  to  an  injury  than 


CHAP,  xii.]  Corruption  of  the  Law.  517 

seek  to  redress  it.     Cases  were  decided  against  justice,  if 
some  technical  form   or   ancient  usage  favored  the  more 
powerful  party.     Lawyers  formed  a  large  and  powerful 
class,  and  they  had  fortunes  to  make.     Instead  of  protect 
ing  the  innocent,  they  shielded  the  guilty.    Those  who  paid 
the  highest  fees  were  most  certain  of  favorable  verdicts. 
The  laws  practically  operated  to  make  the  rich  richer  and 
the  poor  poorer.     Between  the  venality  of  the  court  and 
the  learned  jugglery  of  advocates,  there  was  little  hope  for 
the  obscure  arid  indigent.     Says  Merivale  :  "  The  occupa 
tion  of  the  bench  of  justice  was  the  great  instrument  by 
which  powerful  men  protected  their  monopolies  ;  for,  by 
keeping  this  in  their  own  hands,  they  could  quash  every 
attempt  at  revealing,  by  legal  practice,  the   enormities  of 
their  administration.     And  the  means  of  seduction  allowed 
by  law,  such  as  the  covert  bribery  of  shows  and  festivals, 
were    used   openly  and  boldly."     What,    then,   could  be 
hoped  from  the  laws  when  they  were  made  the  channel  of 
extortion  and  oppression  ?     Law,  the  glory  of  Rome  in  the 
abstract,  became  the  most  dismal  mockery  of  the  rights  of 
man.     Salt  is  good,  but  if  the  salt  has  lost  its  savor  it  is 
good  for  nothing,  not  even  for  the  dunghill.     When  the 
laws   practically  add  to   the  evils   they  were  intended  to 
cure,  what  hope  is  there  in  their  conservative  influence  ? 
The  practice  of  the  law  ever  remained  an  honorable  pro 
fession,  and  the  sons  of  the  great  were  trained  to  it ;  but 
we  find  such  men  as  Cyprian,  Chrysostom,  and  Augustine, 
who  originally  embarked  in  it,  turning  from  it  with  disgust, 
as  full  of  tricks  and  pedantries,  in  which  success  was  only 
earned  by  a  prostitution  of  the  moral  powers.     Laws  per 
verted  were  worse  than  no  laws  at  all,  since  they  could  be 
turned  by  cunning  and  sharp  lawyers  against  truth   and 
innocence.     It   would  be  harsh  and  narrow   to  say  that 
lawyers  were  not  necessary ;  but  they  did  very  little  to 
avert  evils.     A  wicked  generation  pressed  over  the  feeble 
barriers  which  the  laws  presented  against  iniquity.     They 


518     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xir. 

were  only  cobwebs  to  catch  the  insignificant.  Unless  good 
laws  are  enforced  by  virtue  and  intelligence,  they  prove  a 
snare.  It  is  the  enforcement  of  laws,  on  the  principles  of 
justice,  not  the  creation  of  them,  that  saves  a  state. 

If  a  complicated  system  of  laws  and  government,  on 
which  the  reason  and  experience  of  ages  were  expended, 
did  not  prevent  the  empire  from  falling  into  the  hands  of 
Plater05  barbarians>  m«ch  less  was  to  be  expected  of  art, 
Romans.  for  which  the  Romans  were  also  distinguished  in 
common  with  the  Greeks.  Much  is  said  of  the  ennobling 
influence  of  those  great  creations  Avhich  gave  so  great  lustre 
to  ancient  civilization.  Founded  on  imperishable  ideas, 
we  naturally  attribute  to  them  a  great  element  of  national 
preservation,  as  they  were  of  glory  and  pride. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  art,  when  in  harmony  with  the 
exalted  ideals  of  beauty  and  grace,  which  it  seeks  to  per 
petuate  on  canvas  or  in  marble,  does  much  to  improve  the 
taste,  to  promote  refinement  and  aesthetic  culture.     And 
when  art  is  pursued  with  a  lofty  end,  seeking,  like  virtue, 
its  own   reward,  there  is   much   that   is   ennobling  in   it.' 
its  inherent    Even  that  literature  is  most  prized  and  most  en 
during  which  is  artistic,  like  the   odes  of  Hor 
ace,    the    epics    of    Virgil,    the    condensed    narrative    of 
Tacitus;  like  the  «  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard,"  or 
the  "  Deserted  Village,"  or  "  Corinne,"  or  "  Waverley." 
Varro  was  the  most  learned  writer  whom  Rome  produced, 
and  the  most  voluminous.     Yet  scarcely  any  thing  remains 
of  his  productions.     They  were  deficient  in  art,  like  Ger 
man  histories  —  very  useful  in  their  day,  but  only  survive 
in  the  writings  of  those  who  made  use  of  their  materials. 
Hence  science  is  not  so  enduring  as  poetry,  when  poetry  is 
exalted,  since  it  is  superseded  by  new  discoveries.     Hence 
style  in  writing,  when  of  great  excellence,  gives  immortal 
ity  to  works  which  could  not  have  lived  without  it,  even 
had    they   been   ever   so    profound.     Voltaire's    "Charles 
XII."  is  still  a  classic,  like  the  numbers  of  the  "  Specta- 


CHAP,  xii.]  Inherent  Beauty  of  Art.  519 

tor,"  although  superficial,  and,  perhaps,  unreliable.  A  great 
painting  is  like  the  history  of  Thucydides  —  it  lives  because 
it  is  a  creation.  Hence  art,  when  severe  and  lofty,  cannot 
be  too  highly  praised  or  cherished.  A  man  cannot  write 
for  bread°as  he  writes  for  fame  ;  and  he  cannot  write  for 
fame  as  he  writes  to  satisfy  his  own  ideal.  The  immortal 
poets  are  those  who  sing  themselves  away  to  the  regions 
of  bliss,  in  a  divine  ecstacy,  from  love  of  art,  or  to  give  ex 
pression  to  the  feelings  which  fill  the  soul.  Sir  Walter 
Scott  could  write  his  "  Ivanhoe  "  when  inspired  by  the 
sentiments  which  warmed  the  chivalrous  ages  ;  he  became 
a  mere  literary  hack  when  he  wrote  to  pay  his  debts. 

The  true  artist  is  one  of  the  favorites  of  Heaven,  in  a 
great  measure  exalted  above  mortal  commisera-  Thetrue 
tion,  even  if  his  days  are  clouded  with  cares  and  artlst' 
sorrows.     He  lives  in  a  different  and   purer  atmosphere 
than  ordinary  men.    He  may  not  banquet  on  the  pleasures 
of  sense,  but  he  revels  in  the  joys  of  the  soul.     A  Dante 
may  be  sad  and  sorrowful,  as  when,  in  his  gloomy  wander 
ings  and  isolations,  he  asked  of  Fra  Ilario  the  rest  and 
peace  of  his  sacred  monastery ;  but  he  was  sad  as  a  greater 
than  he  wept  over  Jerusalem,  in  the  profound  seriousness 
of  superior  knowledge,  in  the  sublime  solitariness  of  an  in 
habitant  of  another  and  grander  sphere.     Genius  ever  par 
takes  of  this  sadness,  and  it  is  as  shallow  to  mistake  it  for 
misery  as  it  would  be  to  pity  the  saint  passing  through  the 
tribulations  of  our  worldly  pilgrimage,  in  full  view  of  the 
unending  glories  which  are  in  store  for  him  in  the  celestial 
city.     The  higher  joys  of  the  soul  are  foreign  to  frivolity, 
tumult,  and   the   mirth   of  wine,  — those   pleasures   most 
prized  by  the  weak  or  sensual.     There  is  nothing  more 
sublime  in  this  world  than  the  example  of  a  lofty  nature 
seeking  the  imperishable,  the  true,  the  beautiful,  the  good, 
amid  discomfort,  or  reproach,  or  neglect. 

Such  are  truly  great  artists.     Sometimes  they  are  mu 
nificently  rewarded  by  their  generation  with  praises  and 


520     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xn. 

material  goods,  as  was  Apelles  among  the  Greeks,  and 
-Raphael  among  the  Italians.  Sometimes  their  excellence 
was  unappreciated,  except  by  a  few.  But  whether  appre 
ciated  or  not,  the  great  artists  of  antiquity  belong  to  the 
constellation  of  men  of  genius  which  shall  shine  forever 
They  KVed  in  their  own  glorious  realm  of  thought  and 
feeling,  which  the  world  can  neither  understand  nor  share, 
ihey  did  not  live  for  utilities.  They  lived  to  realize  their 
own  exalted  ideas  of  excellence. 

But  this  was  not  the  case  in  imperial  Rome.    All  writers 
Decline  or      speak  of  a  most  signal  decline  in  the  arts  from 
Augustus  to  Diocletian.     Even  architecture  be 
came  corrupted.     It  was  without  taste,  or  a  mere  copy, 
like  the  arch  of  Constantine,  from  the  older  models.    There 
were  no  original  edifices  erected,  and  such  as  were  built 
were  in  defiance  of  all  the  principles  that  were  established 
by  the  Greek  architects.     Least  of  all  did  art  encourage 
grand  sentiments.    It  did  not  paint  ethereal  beauty.    It  did 
not  chisel  the  marble  to  elevate  or  instruct.     Statues  were 
made  to  please  the  degraded  taste  of  rich  but  vulgar  fam 
ilies,  to  give  pomp  to  luxury,  to  pander  wicked  passions 
Painting   was    absolutely    disgraceful;    and    we    veil    our 
eyes  and  hide  our  blushes  as  we  survey  the  decorations  of 
prostitution    Pompeii.     How    degrading   the    pictures    which 
are  found  amid  the  ruins  of  ancient  baths  !     Art 
was  sensualized,  perverted,  corrupting.    Paintings  appealed 
either  to  perverted  tastes,  or  fostered  a  senseless  pride,  or 
stimulated  unholy  passions,  or  flattered  the  vanity  of  the 
rich  — brought  angels  down  to  earth,  not  raised  mortals  to 
heaven.     They  commemorated  the  regime  of  tyrants,  or 
amused  the  wealthy  classes,  whose  wealth  had  bought  alike 
the  muse  of  the  poets  and  the  visions  of  the  sculptor.     Art 
was  venal.     She  sold  her  glories,  which  ought  to  be  as  un- 
bought  as  the  graces  of  life  and  the  smiles  of  beauty;  and 
she  became  a  painted  Haetera,  drunk  with  the  wine-cups 
of  Babylon,   and   fantastic   with   the  sorceries  of  Egypt. 


CHAP,  xii.]  Prostitution  of  Art.  521 

How  could   she,  thus  prostituted,  elevate  the  people,  or 
arrest  degeneracy,  or  consecrate  the  ancient  superstitions  ? 
She  facilitated  rather  than  retarded  the  ruin.     It  is  mar 
velous    how   soon   art   degenerated   with  the    progress  of 
luxury,  reproducing  evil  more  rapidly  than  good,  and  ob 
scuring  even   truth    itself.     Pleasures  that  appeal  to  the 
intellect  will  ever  be  in  accordance  with  prevailing  tastes, 
and  the  more  exquisite  the  art  the  more  fatally  will  it  lead 
astray  by  the  insidious  entrance  of  a  form  as  an  angel  of 
light.     We  cannot  extinguish  art  without  destroying  one 
of  the  noblest  developments  of  civilization  ;  but  we  cannot 
have   civilization    without    multiplying    the    dangers   and 
temptations  of  human   society.     And  even   granting  that 
the  arts  of  the  pagan  world  had  a  refining  influence  on  the 
few,  what  is  this  unless  accompanied  with  the  virtues  which 
grow  out  of  self-sacrifice?     I  am   not  speaking  of  those 
glories  which  art  ought  to  represent,  but  of  those  attrac 
tions  which  it  presents  when  degraded.     What  conserva 
tive  influence  can  result  from  the  Venus  of  Titian  ?    Why 
did  not  art  reform  morals,  as  morals  elevated  art  ?     And 
why  did  art  degenerate  ?     Why  did  it  not  keep  its  own  ? 
The  truth  is,  that  art  is  esoteric,  and  not  popular. 
The  imagination  of  the  vulgar  is  not  sufficiently 
cultivated  to  see,  in  the  emblems  which  art  typi-  art. 
fies,  those  passions  or  sentiments  which  have  moved  gen 
erations  with  enthusiasm.     A  Gothic  cathedral  is  infinitely 
more  interesting  to  a  man  of  sentiment  or  learning  than  to 
an  unlettered  boor.     The  ignorant  cannot  appreciate  the 
historical  fidelity  and  marvelous  study  of  races  which  ap 
pear  in  such  a  statue  as  the  African  Sybil.    We  must  com 
prehend  the  character  of  Moses  before  we  can  kindle  with 
admiration    at   the    dignity    and    majesty   which    Michael 
Angelo  impersonated  in  his  statue.    When  Phidias,  Prax 
iteles,  and  Lysippus  moulded  their  clay  models,  they  had  a 
Pericles,  a  Plato,  or  a  Demosthenes  for  their  critics  and 
admirers.     It  was  for  them  they  worked,   and  by  them 


522     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.   [CHAP.  XII. 

they  were  stimulated  —  not  the  rabble  crowd  of  slaves 
and  sycophants.  But  when,  at  Rome,  there  was  no  Cicero, 
no  Octavius,  no  Mecaenas,  no  Horace,  the  artists  toiled  to 
please  imperial  gluttons,  pretentious  freedmen,  ignorant 
generals,  drunken  senators,  and  venal  judges.  Their  sub 
lime  art  became  the  handmaid  of  effeminacy,  of  vanity, 
of  sensuality.  It  could  not  rise  above  the  level  of  those 
who  dedicated  themselves  to  its  service.  It  did  not  make 
men  better.  Was  Leo  X.  a  wiser  Pope  because  he  de 
lighted  in  pictures  ?  Did  art  make  the  Medici  at  Florence 
more  susceptible  to  religious  impressions  ?  Does  art  sanc 
tify  Dresden  or  Florence  ?  Does  it  make  modern  capitals 
stronger,  or  more  self-sacrificing,  better  fitted  to  contend 
with  violence,  or  guard  against  the  follies  which  undermine 
a  state  ?  What  are  the  true  conservative  forces  of  our 
world  ?  On  what  did  Luther  and  Cranmer  build  the 
hopes  of  regeneration  ?  The  cant  of  dilettanti  would  be 
laughed  at  by  the  old  apostles  and  martyrs.  Art  amuses, 
and  may  refine  when  it  is  itself  pure.  It  does  not  brace 
up  the  soul  to  conflict.  It  does  not  teach  how  to  resist 
temptation.  It  presents  temptations  rather.  It  gilds  the 
fascinations  of  earth.  It  does  not  point  to  duties,  or  the 
life  to  come.  That  which  is  conservative  is  what  saves, 
not  what  adorns.  We  want  ideas,  invisible  agencies,  that 
Thedegrada-  which  exalts  the  mind  above  the  material.  So  far 
tionof  art.  as  ar£  can  (jo  ^jg  fa  jg  we]]p  jj-  js  a  great  element 

of  civilization.  So  far  as  gardens  and  flowers  and  villas 
and  groves  can  do  this,  let  us  have  them.  Let  us  make  a 
paradise  out  of  a  desert.  Man  was  put  into  Eden  to  dress 
and  to  keep  it.  The  material,  rightly  directed  and  used, 
is  part  of  our  just  inheritance.  Man  is  physical  as  well  as 
intellectual.  It  is  monkish  and  erratic  to  spurn  the  outward 
blessings  of  Providence.  An  inheritance  in  Middlesex  is 
worth  more  than  one  in  Utopia.  Give  us  beauty  and 
grace  —  they  are  invaluable.  But  let  us  remember,  also, 
that  it  is  chiefly  from  moral  truth  that  the  soul  expands  — 


CHAP,  xii.]  Failure  of  Art  to  save.  523 

the  recognition  of  responsibilities  and  duties.     No  matter 
how  splendid  we  make  the  triumphs  of  art  in  its  aesthetic 
influence,  the  question  returns,  Did  these,   in  their  best 
estate,  in  Greece  and  Rome,  lead  to  patriotism,  to  sacrifice, 
to  an  elevated  social  home  ?     And  if  these  did  not  arrest 
corruption,  how  could  art,  when  perverted,  save  a  falling 
empire  ?     All  profound  inquiries  as  to  the  progress  of  the 
race  centre  in  moral  truths,  —  those  which  have  reference 
to  the  spiritual  rather  than  the  material,  the  future  rather 
than  the  present.     Art  failed  because  it  did  not   utter  failure 
propound  grand  ideas  which  pertain  to  spiritual  con^ryatfve 
and  future  interests.     It  especially  failed  when  power' 
it  pandered  to  perverted  tastes,  when  it  was  the  mere  pas 
time  of  the  rich,    and    diverted  the  mind   from  what  is 
greatest  and  holiest.     St.  Paul,  when  he  wandered  through 
the  Grecian  cities,  said  very  little  of  the  sculptures  and  the 
temples  which   met  his  eye  at  every  turn.     He  was  not 
insensible  to  beauty  and  grandeur.     But  he  felt  that  all 
renovating  forces  came  from  the  ideas  which  he  was  sent 
to  preach.     He  did  not  condemn  art ;  he  probably  admired 
it ;  but  this  he  saw  was  a  poor  foundation  of  national  hap 
piness  and  strength.     If  the  severe  morality  of  the  Stoics 
was  a  feeble   barrier  against  corruption,  how  much  more 
feeble  were  temples  to  Minerva,  and  statues  to  Jupiter,  and 
pictures  of  Venus  ?     Great  was  Diana  of  the  Ephesians, 
but  not  as  an  influence  to  stem  degeneracy.     Exalt  art  as 
highly  as  we   can,  it  is  not   a  renovating  power,   and  it 
is  this  of  which  we  speak. 

Literature  attempted  something  higher  than  art ;  nor 
need  we  expatiate  on  its  transcendent  excellence  in  the 
classical  ages.  This  itself  was  art,  art  in  the  high-  Attempts  of 
est  and  most  enduring  form,  and  will  live  when  L 
marbles  moulder  away.  Virgil,  Cicero,  Horace,  Tacitus, 
Livy,  Ovid,  were  great  artists,  and  civilization  will  perpet 
uate  their  fame.  They  cannot  die.  What  more  immortal 
than  the  artistic  delineations  of  man  and  of  nature  which 


524     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xil. 

the  poets  and  historians  wrought  out  with  so  much  labor 
and  genius  ?  When  did  men,  uninspired  by  Christianity, 
utter  sentiments  more  tender,  or  thoughts  more  profound, 
or  aspirations  more  lofty?  They  are  our  perpetual  study 
and  marvel  —  prodigies  of  genius,  such  as  appear  only  at 
great  intervals.  All  that  is  most  valuable  in  the  ancient 
civilization  is  perpetuated  in  its  literature,  and  survives 
empires  and  changes.  The  men  who  were  amused  and 
instructed  by  these  great  masterpieces  have  passed  away, 
as  well  as  their  empire,  but  these  will  interest  remotest 
generations.  These  live  by  their  own  vitality.  If  the  un 
aided  intellect  of  man  could  soar  so  high  under  the  wither 
ing  influence  of  paganism  and  political  slavery  and  social 
degradation,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  Christianity  has  higher 
missions  to  accomplish  than  to  stimulate  the  intellectual 
faculties  of  man  ;  and,  while  we  remember  that,  in  our 
own  times,  some  of  the  highest  creations  of  genius  have 
been  made  by  those  who  have  repudiated  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  we  cannot  but  feel  that  conservative  influ 
ences  do  not  come  from  literature,  in  its  best  estate,  unless 
its  ideas  are  inspired  by  the  Gospel.  The  great  writers 
of  the  Augustan  age  did  not  arrest  degeneracy,  any  more 
than  Goethe  and  Bulwer  and  Byron  and  Hugo  have  in  our 
own  day.  They  amused,  they  cultivated,  they  adorned  ; 
they  did  not  save.  Nor  is  it  probable  that  the  great  master 
pieces  of  antiquity  were  favorite  subjects  of  study,  except 
with  a  cultivated  few,  any  more  than  Milton,  Bacon,  and 
Pascal  are  read  in  our  times  by  the  people.  They  en 
riched  libraries  ;  they  were  venerated  and  preserved  in 
costly  bindings  ;  but  they  were  not  familiar  guides.  The 
people  read  nothing.  The  great  writers  of  antiquity  com 
plain  of  the  frivolity  of  the  public  taste.  Moreover,  the 
troubles  of  the  empire  and  the  corruptions  of  society  were 
unfavorable  to  lofty  creations  of  genius.  Men  were  ab 
sorbed  in  passing  events  ;  and  literary  men  generally 
pandered  to  the  vile  taste  of  the  people,  or  stooped  to  adu- 


CHAP  xii.]  Degradation  of  Literature.  525 

late  the  monsters  whom  they  feared.  Hunting  and  hawking 
furnished  subjects  for  the  muse  of  the  poets.  History  was 
reduced  to  dull  and  dry  abridgments,  and  still  drier  com 
mentaries.  The  people  sought  scandalous  anec-  Degradation 
dotes,  or  demoralizing  sketches,  or  frothy  poetry.  of  llterature- 
The  decline  in  letters,  like  the  decline  in  art,  kept  pace 
with  the  public  misfortunes.  When  lofty  and  contempla 
tive  characters  were  saddened  and  discouraged,  in  view  of 
public  and  private  corruption,  and  saw  ruin  approaching, 
they  had  no  spirit  to  make  great  exertions  —  and  exertions 
which  would  not  be  appreciated.  They  sought  retreats. 
There  was  no  life,  no  enthusiasm  in  literature.  It  was 
conventional  —  to  suit  fashionable  coteries,  with  whom 
strength  was  unpalatable  and  dignity  a  rebuke.  Sound 
was  preferred  to  sense.  Rhetoric  supplanted  thought.  A 
sentimental  flow  of  words  passed  current  for  poetry.  Lit 
erary  men  united  into  mutual  admiration  societies,  and 
exalted  their  own  frivolous  productions.  As  the  penny-a- 
liners  of  our  day  enumerate  in  their  catalogue  of  great 
men  chiefly  those  who  have  written  romances  and  poetry 
for  magazines,  and  pass  unnoticed  the  stern  thinkers  of  the 
age,  so  the  literary  gossips  of  Rome  made  the  city  ring, 
like  grasshoppers,  with  their  importunate  chink.  Unfor 
tunately  they  were  the  only  inhabitants  of  the  field,  for 
"  no  great  cattle  "  kept  silence  under  the  shadow  of  the 
protecting  oak.  Nero  suppressed  the  writings  of  Lucan, 
because  he  painted,  in  his  "  Pharsalia,"  the  follies  of  the 
time.  Lucian  gave  vent  to  his  bitter  sarcasms,  and  raised 
the  veil  of  hypocrisy  in  which  his  generation  had  wrapped 
itself;  but  his  mockery,  like  that  of  Voltaire,  demolished, 
without  seeking  to  substitute  any  thing  better  instead. 
Petronius  laughed  at  the  vices  he  did  not  wish  to  remove, 
and  in  which  he  himself  shared.  Juvenal  and  Martial 
both  flattered  the  tyrants  they  detested.  The  nobles  may 
have  laughed  at  their  bitter  sarcasms,  but  they  pursued 
their  pleasures.  Literature,  under  Augustus,  did  but  little 


526     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.  [CHAP.  xn. 

to  elevate    the  Roman  mind.     What   could   be  expected 
when  it  was  coarse,  feeble,  and  frivolous  ?     If  intellectual 
strength  will  not  keep  men  from  vices,  what  can  be  expected 
when  intellect  panders  to  passions  and  interests  ?     There 
is  no  more  absurd  cant  than  that  the  culture  of  the  mind 
favors   the   culture   of  the   heart.     What  do   operas    and 
theatres  for  the  elevation  of  society  ?     Does  a  sentimental 
novel   prompt  to  duty  ?     Education  seldom   keeps  people 
from  follies  when  the  will  is  not  influenced  by  virtues      If 
Socrates  sought  the  society  of  Aspasia,  if  Seneca  amassed 
a  gigantic  fortune  in  the  discharge  of  great  public  trusts, 
Cicero  languished  in  his  exile  because  deprived  of  his 
accustomed  pleasures,  if  Marcus  Aurelius  was  blind  to  the 
rights  and  virtues  of  Christians,  what  could  be  hoped  of 
the  literary  sensualists  of  the  fourth  century  ?     If  knowl 
edge  did   not  restrain   the   passions  of  philosophers,  how 
could  passions  be  restrained  when  every  influence  tended 
to  excite  them  ?     Athens  fell  when  her  arts  and  schools 
were  in  the  zenith  of  their  glory,  how  could  Rome  stand 
when    arts   and    schools   undermined   the    moral    health? 
Neither  poets,  nor  historians,  nor  critics  had  in  view  the 
regeneration  of  society.     They  wrote,  as  poets  and  novel 
ists  write  now,  for  bread,  for  fame,  for  social  position.     If 
such  a  man  as  Racine,  so  lofty  and  severe,  was  killed  by 
a  frown  from  Louis  XIV.,  how  could  such  an  elaborate 
voluptuary  as  Petronius  live  out  of  the  smiles  of  Nero  and 
the  flatteries  of  the  court  ?     If  literature  is  feeble  to  arrest 
degeneracy  when  it  is  lofty,  inasmuch  as  it  reaches  only 
the  cultivated  few,  how  inadequate  it  is  when  it  is  itself 
corrupted  !     The  taste  of  our  times,  with  all  our  glorious 
Christian  literature,  and  our  public  libraries,  our  lecturers, 
our  preachers,  our  professors,  and  our  standard  classical 
authorities,  is  scarcely  kept  from  being  perverted  by  the 
flimsy  literature  which  has  inundated  us,  and  the  newspa 
per  platitudes  which  we  devour  with  our  breakfast.     With 
every  effort  of  true  and  Christian    philanthropists,   it  is 


CHAP.  xii. j         Literature  fails  of  its  End.  527 

questionable  whether  there  is  any  moral  progress  among 
us.  There  is  a  material  growth  ;  but  does  the  moral  cor 
respond,  with  all  our  immense  machinery  for  the  elevation 
of  society  ?  What,  then,  could  be  expected  at  Rome,  where 
there  were  no  public  libraries,  no  newspapers,  no  lyceums, 
no  pulpits,  no  printing-presses,  and  where  books  were  the 
solace  of  a  few  aristocrats,  and  where  these  aristocrats 
could  only  be  amused  by  scandalous  anecdotes  and  frivo 
lous  poetry.  Literature  did  not  even  hold  its  own.  It 
steadily  declined  from  the  Augustan  age.  It  declined  in 
proportion  as  the  people  had  leisure  to  read  it.  Instead 
of  elevating  society,  society  corrupted  literature.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  literature  as  was  said  of  art.  It  did 
not  fulfill  its  mission,  if  it  was  intended  to  save.  It  could 
reach  only  a  small  part  of  the  population,  and  those  whom 
it  did  reach  were  simply  amused. 

It  would  be  too  sweeping  to  affirm  that  the  better  forms 
of  Roman  literature  did  not  refine  and  elevate,  Failure  of 
but  unfortunately  they  reached  only  a  few  minds,  lj 
and  not  always  those  who  had  political  and  social  power. 
Literature  was  not  powerful  enough,  was  not  sufficiently 
circulated,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  was  demoralizing, 
thus  proving  a  savor  of  death  rather  than  a  savor  of  life. 
When  a  civilization  reproduces  evil  more  rapidly  than 
good,  there  is  not  much  hope  for  society,  except  from  some 
signal  interposition  of  Almighty  power.  Society  is  infin 
itely  gloomy  to  a  contemplative  man,  when  there  are  no 
antidotes  to  the  poison  which  is  rapidly  consuming  the 
vitality  of  states.  We  contemplate  approaching  death, 
and  death  amid  the  array  of  physical  glories.  It  is  like  a 
rich  man  laid  on  the  bed  from  which  he  will  never  rise, 
surrounded  with  every  comfort  and  every  pleasure  that 
men  seek.  Literature  was  a  feeble  medicine  to  the  dying 
patient.  Had  all  classes  banqueted  on  the  rich  treasure 
of  the  mind,  and  been  content,  then  there  might  have 
been  some  hope.  But  this  was  not  the  fact.  Only  a  few 


528     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XII. 

reveled  in  the  glories  of  thought.  And  these  scorned  the 
people. 

But  philosophy  attempted  something  higher  and  nobler 
Ancient  — even  to  reform  morals,  especially  at  Rome.  The 
philosophy.  p>omans  had  but  iittie  taste  for  abstract  specula 
tions.  And  hence  they  did  not  extend  the  boundaries  of 
thought  and  reason  beyond  the  limits  which  the  Greeks 
arrived  at.  But  they  adopted  what  was  most  practical  in 
the  Grecian  philosophy,  and  applied  it  to  common  life. 

If  there  is  any  thing  lofty  in  paganism,  it  is  philosophy. 
It  proposed  to  seek  the  beautiful,  the  true,  the  good ;  to 
divert  men  from  degrading  pursuits  ;  to  set  a  low  estimate 
on  money,  and  material  gains,  and  empty  pleasures.  It 
was  calm,  fearless,  and  inquiring.  All  sects  of  philoso 
phers  despised  the  pursuits  of  the  vulgar,  and  affected  wis 
dom.  Minerva,  not  Venus,  not  Diana,  was  the  goddess 
of  their  idolatry.  It  deified  reason,  and  sought  to  control 
the  passions.  It  longed  for  the  realms  of  truth  and  love. 
It  believed  in  the  divine,  and  detested  the  gross.  Hence 
the  philosophers  were  not  eager  for  outward  rewards,  and 
kept  aloof  from  the  demoralizing  pleasures  of  the  people. 
They  attired  themselves  in  a  different  garb,  lived  retired, 
and  studied  the  welfare  of  the  soul.  Mind  was  adored, 
and  matter  depreciated.  They  were  esoteric  men  who  ab 
horred  vice,  and  sought  the  higher  good.  Morally,  they 
were  in  general  superior  to  other  men,  as  they  were  in  in 
tellectual  gifts  and  attainments.  And  they  opposed  the  pop 
ular  current  of  opinions,  and  stemmed  popular  vices.  They 
were  the  reformers  of  the  ancient  world,  the  sages  —  ear 
nest  men,  advocating  the  great  certitudes  of  love  and 
friendship  and  patriotism  —  the  lofty  spirits  of  their  time, 
preoccupied  and  rapt  in  their  noble  inquiries  into  nature 
and  God.  Look  at  Socrates,  so  careless  of  dress,  walking 
barefooted,  giving  what  he  had  away,  courting  mortifica 
tion,  and  disdaining  popular  favor,  if  he  could  only  per 
suade  his  pupils  of  the  greatness  of  the  infinite  and  im- 


CHAP,  xii.]        Glories  of  Ancient  Philosophy.  529 

perishable.  Look  at  Pythagoras,  refusing  political  office, 
and  consecrating  himself  to  teaching.  Look  to  Xenoph- 
anes,  wandering  over  Sicily  in  the  holy  enthusiasm  of 
a  rhapsodist  of  truth.  Look  at  Parmenides,  forsaking 
patrimonial  wealth,  that  he  might  teach  the  distinction 
between  ideas  obtained  through  the  reason,  and  ideas 
obtained  through  the  senses.  Look  at  Heraclitus,  refus 
ing  the  splendid  offers  of  Darius,  and  retiring  to  solitudes, 
that  he  might  explore  the  depths  of  his  own  nature. 
See  Anaxagoras,  allowing  his  fortune  to  melt  away,  that 
he  might  discover  the  many  faces  of  nature.  See  Em- 
pedocles,  giving  away  his  fortune  to  poor  girls,  that  he 
might  attack  the  Anthropomorphism  of  his  day  ;  or  Democ- 
ritus  declining  the  sovereignty  of  Abdera,  that  he  might 
have  leisure  to  speculate  on  the  distinction  between  reflec 
tion  and  sensation  ;  or  Diogenes  living  in  a  tub  ;  or  Plato  in 
his  garden  ;  or  Aristotle  in  the  shady  side  of  the  Lyceum ; 
or  Zeno  guarding  the  keys  of  the  citadel.  See  the  good 
Aurelius,  in  later  and  more  corrupt  ages,  forsaking  the 
pleasures  of  an  imperial  throne,  that  he  might  meditate  on 
his  soul's  welfare,  or  the  slave  Epictetus,  unfolding  the 
richest  lessons  of  moral  wisdom  to  a  corrupt  and  listless 
generation. 

The  loftier  forms  of  the  ancient  philosophy  were  never 
popular,  even  at  Athens.  The  popular  teachers  T1?e  R0maT18 
were  sophists  and  rhetoricians,  who,  as  men  of  SatepSSso- 
fashion  and  ambition,  despised  the  sublime  specu-  phy> 
lations  of  Socrates  and  Plato.  The  Platonic  philosophy 
had  a  hold  only  of  a  few,  and  these  were  men  of  powerful 
minds,  but  stood  aloof  from  the  prevailing  tastes  and 
pleasures.  It  had  still  less  influence  on  the  Roman  mind, 
which  was  practical  and  worldly.  Platonism  opposed  the 
sensualism  and  materialism  of  the  times,  believed  in  eter 
nal  ideas,  sought  the  knowledge  of  God  as  the  great  end 
of  life  —  a  sublime  realism  which  was  hardly  more  appre 
ciated  than  Christianity  itself.  Platonism  was  doubtless 

34 


530     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XII. 

the  highest  effort  of  uninspired  men,  under  the  influence 
of  pagan  ideas  and  institutions,  to  attain  a  knowledge  of 
God  and  the  soul.  It  gloried  in  immortality,  and  claimed 
for  man  a  nature  akin  to  the  deity,  and  destined  to  a  higher 
development  after  death.  It  endeavored  to  understand  our 
complex  nature,  and  trace  a  connection  between  earth  and 
heaven.  It  sought  to  distinguish  between  forms  and  es 
sence,  the  spiritual  and  the  sensual.  It  spiritualized  the 
popular  mythology,  and  insisted  on  the  unity  on  which  it 
fundamentally  rests.  It  did  not  sneer  at  religious  earnest 
ness,  and  looked  upon  the  beatitudes  of  the  soul  as  the 
highest  good  of  earth. 

But  such  knowledge  was  too  wonderful  for  the  Romans. 
It  was  high,  and  they  could  not  attain  unto  it.  Its  ends 
were  too  spiritual  and  elevated.  There  was  scarcely  an 
eminent  Roman  who  adopted  the  system.  Cicero  came  the 
nearest  to  understand  its  spiritual  import,  but  it  was  too 
lofty  even  for  him.  He  composed  a  republic  and  a  treatise 
of  laws,  in  which  reason  and  the  rule  of  right  should  be 
made  the  guide  of  states  and  empires.  In  this  way 

Platonism.  r     .  •    •   • 

Jrlatonism,  as  a  sublime  hypothesis,  entered  into 
jurisprudence.  It  affected  the  thinking  of  master  minds, 
•even  as  it  entered  into  Christianity  at  a  later  period,  and 
formed  an  alliance  with  it.  But,  practically,  it  did  not 
have  much  effect  on  life  and  manners.  It  was  regarded 
as  a  system  of  mysticism,  cherished  by  a  very  small  esoteric 
body  of  believers,  who  were  spurned  as  dreamers.  They 
were  looked  upon  very  much  as  the  transcendentalists  of 
our  own  day  are  regarded,  with  whom  the  great  body  of 
even  thinkers  had  but  little  sympathy.  There  was  no 
more  respect  for  Plato  at  Rome  than  there  is  for  Kant 
among  the  merchants  of  London.  His  name  may  have 
been  pronounced  with  an  oracular  admiration,  but  there 
was  no  profound  appreciation  of  him,  no  general  knowledge 
of  his  writings,  no  sympathy  for  his  doctrines.  They  were 
to  the  Romans  foolishness,  somewhat  after  the  sense  that 


CHAP,  xii.]  The  Aristotelian  Philosophy.  531 

Christianity  was  to  the  Greeks.  They  transcended  their 
experience,  went  beyond  the  limits  of  their  thoughts,  and 
sought  spiritual  certitudes  which  they  disdained. 

The  philosophy  of  Aristotle  was  nearly  as  distasteful  to 

the  Romans    as    that  of   Plato,   and  it  was  less   The  Aristo 
telian  phil- 
lofty.      It    had    a    skeptical    tendency,    and    ex- 


eluded  scientific  light  from  the  sphere  of  activity,  and  in 
culcated  a  proud  and  self-reliant  spirit.  The  academics 
denied  the  possibility  of  arriving  at  truth  with  certainty  ; 
and,  therefore,  held  it  uncertain  whether  the  gods  existed 
or  not,  whether  the  soul  is  mortal  or  survives  the  body, 
whether  virtue  is  preferable  to  vice,  or  the  contrary. 
They  sneered  at  religious  earnestness,  and  tacitly  en 
couraged  influences  greatly  to  be  dreaded.  They  held  in 
supreme  contempt  the  popular  religion,  and  made  a  mock 
ery  of  religious  ceremonies.  They  undermined  super 
stition,  but  weakened  religion  also  by  substituting  nothing 
instead  of  the  absurdities  they  brushed  away.  Lucian 
was  a  type  of  these  philosophers,  and  his  bitter  sarcasms 
were  more  powerful  than  the  logic  of  Cicero  to  destroy 
what  could  not  be  proved,  The  academics  may  be  said  to 
have  been  the  rationalists  of  antiquity.  The  old  ItgftUiire 
religions  could  not  maintain  their  ground  before 
the  inquiring  skepticism  and  sarcastic  wit  of  these  irrelig 
ious  philosophers,  who  contented  themselves  with  a  lifeless 
deism  —  a  system  which  did  not,  indeed,  deny  the  exist 
ence  and  providence  of  God,  but  which  attributed  to  the 
Deity  an  indifference  respecting  the  affairs  of  men.  Dr. 
Neander,  in  the  first  volume  of  the  u  History  of  the 
Church,"  has  shown  the  effects  of  the  unbelief  of  the 
academics  on  the  state  of  society  at  Rome,  especially  on 
the  men  of  rank  and  fashion.  Infidelity,  in  any  form,  can 
have  no  conservative  influence.  It  is  designed  to  pull 
down,  and  not  to  build  up.  Superstition,  with  all  'its 
puerilities,  is  better  than  a  scornful  and  proud  philosophy 
which  takes  no  cognizance  of  popular  wants  and  aspirations. 


532     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xu. 

If  any  form  of  ancient  philosophy  could  have  renovated 
The  stoical  society,  it  was  the  Stoical  school,  which  Zeno  had 
philosophy,  founded.  It  commended  itself,  in  a  corrupt  age, 
to  many  noble  and  powerful  minds,  because  it  raised  them 
above  the  corruption  around  them,  and  proclaimed  an  ideal 
standard  of  morality.  The  Romans  cared  very  little  for 
mere  speculations  on  God  or  the  universe ;  but  they  did 
revere  that  which  proposed  a  practical  aim.  The  Stoics 
despised  prevailing  baseness,  and  set  examples  of  a  severe 
morality.  Marcus  Aurelius,  one  of  the  loftiest  followers 
of  this  school,  was  a  model  of  every  virtue,  and  he  looked 
upon  his  philosophy  as  a  means  of  salvation  to  a  crumbling 
empire.  But  the  Stoics,  with  all  their  morality,  were  the 
Pharisees  of  pagan  antiquity.  They  held  themselves  supe 
rior  to  all  other  classes  of  men.  They  gloried  in  their 
proud  isolation.  And  with  all  the  loftiness  of  Stoicism,  it 
did  not  teach  of  a  God  who  governed  the  world  in  mercy 
and  love,  but  according  to  the  iron  decrees  of  necessity. 
It  attacked  error  with  a  stern  severity,  but  had  no  toleration 
for  human  weakness.  It  confounded  the  idea  of  God  with 
that  of  the  universe,  and  therefore  destroyed  his  person 
ality,  making  the  Deity  himself  an  influence,  or  a  develop 
ment.  The  Stoic  despised  the  age,  and  despised  every 
influence  to  elevate  it  which  did  not  come  from  himself. 
He  treated  the  most  wholesome  truths  so  partially  as  to 
be  led  into  the  greatest  absurdities  of  doctrine  and  incon 
sistencies  with  their  general  principle.  Epictetus,  indeed, 
infused  a  new  life  into  the  Stoical  philosophy.  He  taught 
the  doctrine  of  passive  endurance  so  forcibly  that  the  Chris 
tians  claimed  him  for  their  own.  But  there  was  nothing 
which  appealed  to  the  people  in  Stoicism.  It  was  too  stern 
and  cold.  It  had  no  humanity.  Hence  they  stood  aloof, 
as  they  did  from  all  the  systems  of  Grecian  philosophy. 
It  was  not  for  them,  but  for  the  learned  and  the  cultivated. 
It  was  a  system  of  thought ;  it  was  not  a  religion  —  ;i 
speculation  and  not  a  life.  Like  IMatonism,  the  Stoical 


CHAP,  xil.]  The  Epicurean  Philosophy.  533 

philosophy  was  esoteric,  and  only  appealed  to  a  few  ele 
vated  minds,  who  had  affected  indifference  to  the  evils  of 
life,  and  had  learned  to  conquer  natural  affections.  The 
Stoical  doctrines  of  Epictetus  had  a  more  practical  end  in 
view  than  those  of  Zeno,  since  they  were  applied  to  Ro 
man  thought  and  life.  We  cannot  deny  the  purity  and 
beauty  of  his  aphorisms,  but  he  was  like  Noah  preach 
ing  before  the  flood.  He  had  his  disciples  and  admir 
ers,  but  they  made  a  feeble  barrier  against  corruptions. 
It  was  the  protest  of  a  man  before  a  mob  of  excited  and 
angry  persecutors  resolved  on  his  death.  It  was  no  more 
heard  than  the  dying  speech  of  Stephen.  It  was  lost 
utterly  on  a  people  abandoned  to  inglorious  pleasure. 

The  only  form  of  philosophy  which  was  popular  with  the 
Romans,    and  which   was    appreciated,   was   the   TheEpicu- 

-~    .  rr»i         v      •    i  f  .1  •          11  p     reanphiloso- 

Epicurean.  The  disciples  of  this  school  were,  of  phy. 
course,  the  luxurious,  the  fashionable,  the  worldly,  and  it 
exercised  upon  them  but  a  feeble  restraining  influence.  It 
denied  the  providence  of  God  ;  it  maintained  that  the 
world  was  governed  by  chance  ;  it  denied  the  existence 
of  moral  gocdness  ;  it  affirmed  that  the  soul  was  mortal, 
and  that  pleasure  was  the  only  good.  If  the  more  con 
templative  and  the  least  passionate  rebuked  gross  vices, 
they  still  advocated  a  tranquil  indifference  to  outward 
events  that  showed  neither  loftiness  nor  fear  of  judgment. 
Their  system  was  openly  based  upon  atheism.  Self-love 
was  the  foundation  of  all  action,  and  self-indulgence  was 
the  ultimate  good.  The  Epicureans  were  the  patrons  of 
the  circus,  and  the  theatre,  and  the  banquet,  and,  indeed, 
of  all  those  vanities  and  follies  which  disgraced  the  latter 
days  of  Rome.  Their  influence  tended  to  enervate  and 
corrupt.  Their  philosophy,  instead  of  preserving  old  forms 
of  life,  old  customs,  old  institutions,  old  traditions  and  asso 
ciations,  made  a  mockery  of  them  all,  and  was  as  efficient 
in  producing  decay  as  was  the  philosophy  of  the  eighteenth 
century  in  France  in  paving  the  way  for  the  revolution. 


534     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.   [CHAP.  xn. 

The  purest  type  of  Epicureanism  may  have  refined  a  few 
of  the  better  sort,  but  the  prevailing  influence,  doubtless, 
undermined  society.  The  god  of  the  reason  was  allied 
with  the  god  of  the  sense,  and  the  maniac  soul  of  the  lying 
prophet  entered  the  schools.  Education,  as  directed  by 
them,  served  only  to  make  youth  worldly  and  frivolous. 
Teachers  sought  to  amuse  and  not  to  instruct,  to  make 
royal  roads  to  knowledge,  to  exalt  the  omnipotence  of 
money,  to  set  a  high  value  on  what  passes  away.  They 
limited  man  to  himself,  and  acknowledged  no  other  object 
of  human  exertion  than  is  to  be  found  within  the  compass 
of  the  fleeting  phenomena  of  the  present  life.  They  had 
no  wish  beyond  the  present  hour,  and  only  aimed  to  console 
man  in  the  corruption  and  misery  which  he  saw  around 
him.  They  had  no  high  aims  ;  nor  did  they  seek  to  pro 
duce  profound  impressions.  They  adapted  themselves  to 
what  was,  rather  than  what  ought  to  be.  They  were  easy 
and  gracious,  but  utterly  without  earnestness.  The  Peri 
patetic  inquired,  sneeringly,  "  What  is  truth  ?  "  The 
Epicurean  languidly  said,  "  What  is  truth  to  me.  There 
is  no  truth  nor  virtue,  nor  is  there  a  God,  nor  a  place  of 
rewards  and  punishments.  This  world  is  my  theatre. 
Let  me  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  I  die.  I  will  abstain 
from  inordinate  self-indulgence,  for  it  will  shorten  my  life, 
or  produce  satiety,  ennui,  disgust  —  not  because  it  is 
wrong.  I  will  make  the  most  of  earth  and  of  my  faculties 
for  pleasure.  Wealth  is  the  greatest  blessing,  poverty  the 
greatest  calamity.  Friends  are  of  no  account,  unless  they 
amuse  me  or  help  me.  The  sentiment  of  friendship  is  im 
possible,  and  would  be  unsatisfactory."  The  true  Epicu 
rean  quarreled  with  no  person  and  with  no  opinions. 
Nothing  was  of  consequence  but  ease,  prosperity,  self- 
forgetfulness.  The  soul  of  man  could  aspire  to  nothing 
beyond  this  life  ;  and  when  death  came,  it  was  a  release, 
a  thing  neither  to  be  regretted  nor  rejoiced  in,  but  an  irre 
sistible  fate.  What  could  be  expected  from  such  a  system  ? 


CHAP,  xii.]    Failure  of  all   Triumphs  of  Civilization.     535 

What  renovation  in  such  a  cold,  barren,  negative  faith, 
without  hope,  without  God  in  the  world  ?  The  most 
prevalent  of  all  the  systems  of  philosophy,  so  far  from 
doing  good,  did  evil.  How  could  it  save  when  its  ends 
were  destructive  of  all  those  sentiments  on  which  true 
greatness  rests  ?  What  could  be  expected  of  a  philosophy 
which  only  served  to  amuse  the  great,  to  throw  contempt 
on  the  people,  to  undermine  religious  aspirations,  to  vitiate 
the  moral  sense,  to  ignore  God  and  duty  and  a  life  to 
come  ? 

Thus  every  influence  at  Rome,  whether  proceeding  from 
art,  or  literature,  or  philosophy,  or  government,  instead  of 
saving,  tended  to  destroy.  All  these  things  came  from 
man,  and  could  not  elevate  him  beyond  himself.  Even 
religion  was  a  compound  of  superstitions,  ritual  observ 
ances,  and  puerilities.  It  did  not  come  from  God.  It  was 
neither  lofty  nor  pure.  What  good  there  was  soon  be 
came  perverted,  and  the  evil  was  reproduced  more  rapidly 
than  good.  Only  error  seemed  to  have  vitality.  The 
false  lights  which  sin  had  kindled  shed  only  a  delusive 
gleam.  The  soul  occasionally  asserted  the  dignity  which 
God  had  given  it,  and  great  men  swept  and  garnished 
houses,  but  devils  reentered,  and  the  normal  condition  of 
humanity  was  what  the  Bible  declares  it  to  be  since  Adam 
was  expelled  from  Paradise.  Genius,  energy,  ambition, 
were  allowed  to  win  their  victories,  and  they  shed  a  glori 
ous  light,  and  for  a  time  exalted  the  reason  of  man,  but 
alas,  were  soon  followed  by  shame  and  degradation. 

And  what  is  the  logical  inference  —  the  deduction  which 
we  are  compelled  to  draw  from  this  mournful  his-   AH  forms  of 

\  .  civilization 

torv  of  the  failure  of  all  those  grand  trophies  or    fan  to  be 

*'....  .  X  conserva- 

the  civilization  which  man  has  made  ?    Can  it  be   tive. 
other  than  this  :  that  man  cannot  save  himself;  that  noth 
ing   which   comes  from  him,    whether  of  genius   or  will, 
proves   to   be    a    conservative    force    from    generation   to 
generation  ;    that  it  will  be    perverted,  however  true,  or 


536     Why  Paganism  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xii. 

beautiful,  or  glorious,  because  "  men  love  darkness  rather 
than  light."  All  that  is  truly  conservative,  all  that 
grows  brighter  and  brighter  with  the  progress  of  ages, 
all  that  is  indestructible  and  of  permanent  beauty,  must 
come  from  a  power  higher  than  that  of  man,  whether 
supernatural  or  not  —  must  be  a  revelation  to  man  from 
Heaven,  assisted  by  divine  grace.  It  must  be  divine  truth 
in  conjunction  with  divine  love.  It  must  be  a  light  from 
Him  who  made  us,  and  which  alone  baffles  the  power  of 
evil. 

He  did  send  Christianity,  when  every  thing  else  had 
signally  failed,  as  it  will  forever  fail.  And  this  is  the  seed 
of  the  woman  which  shall  bruise  the  serpent's  head. 

We  have  now  to  show  why  this  great  renovating  and 
life-giving  influence  did  not  prevent  the  destruction  of  the 
empire  ;  and  we  may  be  convinced  that  if  this  great  end 
could  not  be  accomplished  in  accordance  with  the  plans  of 
Providence,  and  in  accordance  with  the  laws  by  which  He 
rules  the  world,  Christianity  wras  in  no  sense  a  failure,  as 
man's  devices  were  ;  but,  through  the  mouths  and  writings 
of  great  bishops,  saints,  and  doctors,  projected  its  saving 
truths  far  into  the  shadows  of  barbaric  Europe,  and  laid 
the  foundation  for  a  new  and  more  glorious  civilization  — 
a  civilization  not  destined  to  perish,  so  far  as  it  is  in  har 
mony  with  divine  revelation. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHY    CHRISTIANITY    DID    NOT    ARREST    THE    RUIN    OF    THE 
ROMAN    EMPIRE. 

ONE  of  the  most  interesting  inquiries  which  is  suggested 
by  history  is,  Why  Christianity  did  not  prevent  the  glory  of 
the  old  civilization  from  being  succeeded  by  shame  ?  This 
is  not  only  a  grand  inquiry,  but  it  is  mysterious.  We  are 
naturally  surprised  that  literature,  art,  science,  laws,  and 
the  perfect  mechanism  of  government  should  have  proved 
such  feeble  barriers  against  degeneracy,  for  these  are 
among  the  highest  triumphs  of  the  human  mind,  and  such 
as  the  world  will  not  willingly  let  die.  But  a  still  more 
potent  and  majestic  influence  than  any  thing  which  pro 
ceeds  from  man  still  remained  to  the  haughty  masters  of 
the  ancient  world.  A  new  religion  had  been  proclaimed 
with  the  establishment  of  the  empire,  which  gradually 
broke  down  the  old  superstitions,  conquered  the  hatred 
and  prejudices  of  both  Greeks  and  Romans,  supplanted  the 
old  systems  of  Paganism,  and  went  on  from  conquering  to 
conquer,  until  it  seated  itself  on  the  imperial  throne,  and 
proved  itself  to  be  the  wisdom  and  the  power  of  God. 

But  we  see  that  as  this  wonderful  religion  gained 
ground,  whether  in  changing  the  lives  of  individuals,  or 
in  allying  itself  with  dominant  institutions,  the  Roman  Em 
pire  declined.  When  Christianity  was  first  proclaimed,  the 
Roman  eagles  surmounted  the  principal  cities  of  antiquity, 
and  the  central  despotism  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber  was 
the  law  of  the  world.  When  it  was  a  feeble  light  on  the 
mountains  of  Galilee,  the  glory  of  Rome  was  the  object  of 


538    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

universal  panegyric,  and  the  city  of  the  seven  hills  rejoiced 
in  a  magnificence  which  promised  to  be  eternal.  But 
when  Paganism  yielded  to  Christianity,  and  when  the 
latter  had  spread  to  every  city  and  village  in  the  empire, 
with  its  grand  hierarchy  of  bishops  and  doctors,  the  proud 
empire  was  in  ruins.  It  would  even  seem  that  its  decline 
and  fall  kept  pace  with  the  triumphs  of  a  religion  it  had 
spurned  and  persecuted. 

What  is  the  explanation  of  this  grand  mystery  ?  Why 
Society  ret-  should  society  have  declined  as  Christianity 
cStSuy  spread,  if,  as  we  believe,  Christianity  is  the 
great  conservative  force  of  the  world,  and  is 
destined  to  regenerate  all  government,  science,  and  social 
life?  If  the  stability  of  the  empire  rested  on  virtues,  and 
was  undermined  by  vices,  virtue  must  have  declined  and 
vice  increased.  But  how  can  we  reconcile  such  a  fact 
with  the  progress  of  a  religion  which  is  the  mainspring  of 
all  virtue,  and  the  destruction  of  all  vice  ?  We  do  know 
that  Christianity  did  not  prevent  the  empire  from  falling, 
but  also  we  have  the  testimony  of  poets  and  historians  to 
the  exceeding  wickedness  of  society  when  Christianity 
was  fairly  established. 

In  presenting  the  strange  phenomenon  of  a  falling  em 
pire  with  an  all-conquering  religion,  it  is  necessary  to 
grapple  with  the  gloomy  problem.  We  have  unbounded 
faith  in  the  power  of  Christianity  to  save  the  world,  and 
yet  we  see  a  mighty  empire  crumbling  to  pieces  from  vices 
A  mysteri-  which  Christianity  did  not  subdue.  What  a  de 
duction  might  be  drawn  from  this  strange  fact, 
that  Christianity  can,  but  but  did  not,  save.  How  mourn 
ful  the  future  of  modern  Christian  nations  if  the  same  fact 
should  be  repeated  —  if  civilization  should  decline  as 
Christianity  achieves  its  triumphs !  Is  it  possible  that 
civilization,  the  triumph  of  human  genius  and  will,  may  fade 
away  as  Christianity,  which  gives  vitality  to  society,  ad 
vances  ?  Has  civilization  nothing  to  do  with  Christianity  ? 


CHAP.  XIII.]    Christianity  fails  to  check  Degeneracy.          539 

But  there  can  be  nothing  mournful  in  the  developments 
of  a  divine  religion  —  nothing  discouraging  in  the  con 
quests  which  seemed  incomplete.  Nor  did  it  really,  in 
any  important  task,  prove  a  failure;  but  amid  Christianity 
the  ashes  of  the  old  world,  as  it  disappeared,  we  a  failure, 
see  the  new  creation,  and  listen  to  melodious  birth-songs. 
Indeed,  the  fall  of  the  empire,  when  we  profoundly  survey 
it,  instead  of  detracting  from  Christianity,  only  prepared 
the  way  for  higher  triumphs,  and  for  a  loftier  development 
of  civilization  itself.  Future  ages  have  probably  lost 
nothing  by  the  ruin  of  Rome,  while  the  world  has  gained 
by  the  establishment  of  Christianity,  even  by  the  seeds  of 
truth  planted  by  the  early  church. 

Still,  it  cannot  be  questioned  that,  in  the  Roman  em 
pire,  vices  and  corruptions  spread  with  terrific  and  mourn 
ful  rapidity  even  after  Christianity  was  revealed  —  so  rap 
idly,  indeed,  that  Christianity  opposed  but  a  feeble  barrier. 
The  history  of  Christianity  among  the  Romans  suggests 
these  three  inquiries :  — 

First,  why  it  proved  so  feeble  in  arresting  degeneracy  ; 
secondly,    how    far    it    conserved    old    institutions  ;    and 
thirdly,  how  far  it  created  a  new  and  higher  civilization. 
The  first  inquiry,  on  a  superficial  view,  is  discouraging. 
We    see    a  sublime    realism    making  quietly  its  christt^ 
converts  by  thousands,  without  seemingly  check-  degeneracy. 
ing  ordinary  vices.     We  are  reminded  of  Socrates  creating 
Platos,  yet  failing  to  reform  Athens.    We  behold  witnesses 
of  the  truth  in  every  land,  which  gradually  sinks  deeper  and 
deeper  in  infamy  as  the  witnesses   increase.     And,  when 
the  land  is  about  to  be  overrun  by  barbarians,  when  de 
spair  seizes  the  public  mind,  and  desolation  overspreads  the 
earth,  and  good  men  hide  in  rocks,  and  dens,  and  caves, 
we  see  the  church  resplendent  with  wealth  and  glory,  her 
bishops  enthroned  as  dignitaries,  princes  doing  homage  to 
saints,  and  even  the  barbarians  themselves  bowing  down 
in  reverence  and  awe.    How  barren  these  ecclesiastical  vie- 


540    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xui. 

tories  seem  to  a  superficial  or  infidel  eye  !  If  Christianity 
is  what  its  converts  claim,  why  did  it  accomplish  so  little  ? 
But,  in  another  aspect,  the  victories  do  not  seem  so  bar 
ren  ;  and  they  even  appear  more  and  more  majestic  the  more 
they  are  contemplated.  There  is  something  grand  in  the 
spread  of  new  ideas  which  are  unpalatable  to  the  mighty  and 
the  wise.  Considering  the  humble  characters  of  the  early 
Apostles  and  their  disciples,  their  triumphs  were  really 
magnificent.  It  is  astonishing  that  the  teachings  of  fisher 
men  should  have  supplanted  the  teachings  of  Jewish 
rabbis  and  Grecian  philosophers,  amid  so  great  and  gen 
eral  opposition.  It  is  remarkable  that  their  doctrines 
should  have  so  completely  changed  the  lives  of  those  who 
embraced  them.  It  is  wonderful  that  emperors  who  per 
secuted  and  sages  who  spurned  the  religion  of  Jesus, 
Yet  stiii  a  should  have  been  won  over  by  a  moral  force 
religion.  superior  to  all  the  venerated  influences  of  the 
old  religion  of  which  they  were  guardians  and  expounders. 
It  is  surprising  that  such  relentless  and  bloody  persecutions 
as  took  place  for  three  hundred  years  should  have  been  so 
futile.  When  we  remember  the  extension  of  Christianity 
into  all  the  countries  known  to  the  ancients,  and  the  mar 
velous  fruits  it  bore  among  its  converts,  making  them  broth 
ers,  heroes,  martyrs,  saints,  doctors  —  a  benediction  and  a 
blessing  wherever  they  went ;  and  when  we  see  these  little 
esoteric  bands,  in  tipper  chambers  or  in  catacombs,  perse 
cuted,  tormented,  despised,  yet  gaining  daily  new  adherents, 
without  the  aid  of  wealth,  or  learning,  or  social  position, 
or  political  power,  until  generals,  senators,  and  kings  came 
willingly  into  their  fraternity,  and  bound  themselves  by 
their  rules,  and  changed  the  whole  habits  of  their  lives, 
looking  to  the  future  rather  than  the  present  —  the  infin 
ite  rather  than  the  finite  ;  blameless  in  morals,  lofty  in 
faith,  heavenly  in  love  ;  sheep  among  wolves,  yet  not  de 
voured  —  we  feel  that  Christianity  cannot  be  too  highly 
exalted  as  a  conquering  power. 


CHAP,  xiii.]          Christianity  too  late  to  save.  541 

But  the  point  is,  not  that  Christianity  failed  to  conquer, 
but  that  it  failed  to  save  the  Roman  world.  The  con 
quests  of  the  church  are  universally  admitted  and  univer 
sally  admired.  They  were  the  most  wonderful  moral  vic 
tories  ever  achieved.  But,  while  Christianity  conquered 
Rome,  why  did  she  fail  to  arrest  its  ruin  ?  Vice  gained 
on  virtue,  rather  than  virtue  gained  on  vice,  even  when 
the  cross  was  planted  on  the  battlements  of  the  imperial 
palaces. 

The  victories  of  Christianity  came  not  too  late  for  the 
human  race,  but  for  the  stability  of  the  Roman  Christianity 

,        ,  .  .       ,     too  late  to 

empire.     Had  Christianity  completely  triumphed  save. 
when  Julius  Csesar  overturned  the  republic,  the   empire 
might  have  lasted.     But  when  Constantine  was  converted, 
the  empire  was  shaken  to  its  foundations,  and  the  barba 
rians    were    advancing.       No    medicine    could    have    pre 
vented  the  diseased  old  body  from  dying.     The  time  had 
come.     When  the  wretched  inebriate  embraces  a  spiritual 
religion  with  one   foot   in   the   grave,  with   a   constitution 
completely  undermined,  and  the  seeds  of  death  planted, 
then  no  repentance  or  lofty  aspiration  can  prevent  physical 
death.     It  was  so  in  Rome.     Society  was  completely  un 
dermined   long    before    the    emperors  became    Christians. 
The  fruits  of  iniquity  were  being  reaped  when  Chrysos- 
tom  and  Augustine  lifted  up  their  voices.     The  body  was 
diseased,  so  that  no  spiritual  influence  could  work  upon  it. 
Had  every  man  in  the  empire  been  a  Christian,  yet,  when 
the  army  had  lost  its  discipline  and  efficiency,  when  patri 
otism  had  fled,  when  centuries  of  vices  had  enfeebled  the 
physical   forces,    when    puny    races    had    lost    all    martial 
ardor,    and    could    present    nothing    but    weakness    and 
cowardice  —  all  from  physical  causes,  how  could  they  have 
successfully  contended  with  the  new  and  powerful  barbaric 
armies  ?     Christianity  saves  the  soul ;  it  does  not  restore 
exhausted  physical  functions.     The  vices  which  had  un 
dermined  were  learned  before  Christianity  protested,  and 


542    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xill. 

were  dominant  when  Christianity  was  feeble.  The  effects 
of  those  vices  were  universal  before  a  remedy  could  be 
applied. 

Moreover,  when  Christianity  itself  was  a  vital  and  con- 
Limited         querino;  force,  the  number  of  its  converts  formed 

number  of         /  .  />,.•,,• 

the  converts,  but  a  small  proportion  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
empire.  Witnesses  of  the  truth  were  sent  into  every  im 
portant  city  in  the  world,  but  they  simply  protested  in  a 
dark  corner.  Their  warning  voice  was  unheeded  except 
by  a  few,  and  these  were  unimportant  people  in  a  social 
or  political  or  intellectual  point  of  view.  Even  when 
Constantine  was  converted,  the  number  of  Christians  in 
the  empire,  according  to  Gibbon,  whose  statement  has  not 
been  refuted,  was  only  one  fifth  of  the  whole  population. 
And  this  accounts  for  the  insignificant  social  changes  that 
Christianity  wrought.  A  vast  majority  was  opposed  to 
them  even  in  the  fourth  century.  There  were  doubtless 
large  numbers  of  Christians  at  Rome,  Antioch,  Alexan 
dria,  Corinth,  Ephesus,  and  other  populous  cities,  in  the 
third  century,  and  also  there  were  powerful  churches  in 
the  great  centres  of  trade,  where  people  of  all  nations  con- 
gregated  ;  but  they  were  exposed  to  bitter  persecutions, 
and  they  durst  not  be  ostentatious,  not  even  in  those  edi 
fices  where  they  congregated  for  the  worship  of  Jehovah. 
For  two  centuries  they  worshiped  God  in  secret  and 
lonely  places,  exposed  to  persecution  and  scorn.  Not  only 
were  the  Christians  few  in  number,  when  compared  with 
the  whole  population,  but  they  were  chiefly  confined  to 
the  humble  classes.  In  the  first  century  not  many  wise 
or  noble  were  called.  No  great  names  have  been  handed 
down  to  us.  Now  and  then  a  centurion  was  converted,  or 
some  dependent  on  a  great  man's  household,  or  some  serv 
ant  in  the  imperial  family  ;  but  no  philosophers,  or  states 
men,  or  nobles,  or  generals,  or  governors,  or  judges,  or 
magistrates.  In  the  first  century  the  Christians  were  not 
of  sufficient  importance  to  be  generally  persecuted  by  the 


CHAP,  xiii.]       Obscurity  of  the  Early  Christians.  543 

o-overnment.     They  had  not  even  arrested  public  attention. 
Nobody   wrote    against   them,    not   even   Greek  gri^chns- 
philosophers.     We   do   not    read   of  protests   or  pomnt. 
apologies  from    the    Christians    themselves.     No   contem 
porary  historian  or  poet  alludes  to  them.     They  had  no 
great  men  in  their  ranks,  either  for  learning,  or  talents,  or 
wealth,  or  social  position.     In  the  cities  they  were  chiefly 
artisans,  slaves,  servants,  or  mechanics,  and  in  the  country 
they  were  peasants.     They  were  unlettered,  plebeian,  un 
important.     If  there  were  distinguished  converts,  we  do 
not  know  their  names.     Ecclesiastical  history  is  silent  as 
to  distinguished  persons  except  as  persecutors,  or  as  great 
contemporaries.     We  read  of  the  calamities  of  the  Jews, 
of  Herod  Agrippa,  of  Philo,  of  Nero's  persecution,  of  the 
emperors,  but  not  of  Christians.     Eusebius  does  not  nar 
rate  a  single  interesting  or  important  fact  which  took  place 
in  the  first  century  through  the  agency  of  a  ^  great  man. 
Wre  know  scarcely  more   than  what  is  contained   in  the 
New  Testament.  '  We  read  that  Clement  was  bishop  of 
Rome,  but  know  nothing  of  his  administration.     We  do 
not  know  whether  or  not  he  was  a  man  of  any  worldly 
consideration.     Nothing  in  history  is  more  barren  than  the 
annals  of  the  church  in  the  first  century,  so  far  as  great 
names  are  concerned.     Yet  in  this  century  converts  were 
multiplied  in  every  city,  and  traditions  point  to  the  mar- 
tvrdoms  of  those  who  were  prominent,  including  nearly  all 
of  the  Apostles. 

In  the  second  century  there  are  no  greater  names  than 
Polycarp,  Irenseus,  Ignatius,  Justin  Martyr,  ob^urity  of 
Clement  Melito,  and  Apollonius  —  quiet  bishops  Christians. 
or  intrepid  martyrs  —  bishops  who  addressed  their  flocks 
in  upper  chambers,  and  who  held  no  worldly  rank  — 
famous  only  for  their  sanctity  or  simplicity  of  character, 
and  only  mentioned  for  their  sufferings  and  faith.  We 
read  of  martyrs,  some  of  whom  wrote  valuable  treatises 
and  apologies;  but  among  them  we  find  no  people  of 


544     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

rank,  not  even  ladies  like  Paula  and  Marcella  and  Fabiola, 
in  the  time  of  Jerome,  unless  Symphorosa  is  an  exception. 
It  was  a  disgrace  to  be  a  Christian  in  the  eye  of  fashion  or 
power.  Even  the  great  Marcus  Aurelius,  so  distinguished 
as  a  man  and  a  philosopher,  had  supreme  contempt  of  the 
new  apostles  of  truth,  and  was  one  of  their  most  unrelent 
ing  persecutors.  The  early  Christian  literature  is  chiefly 
apologetic,  and  the  doctrinal  character  of  the  fathers  of 
this  century  is  simple  and  practical,  showing  no  great  ac 
quaintance  with  the  system  of  heathen  thought.  There 
Then-intense  were  controversies  in  the  church  —  an  intense 
hfe-  religious  life  —  great  activities,  great  virtues, 
but  no  outward  conflicts,  no  secular  history,  nothing  to 
arrest  public  notice.  But  the  converts  to  Christianity, 
plebeian  as  they  were,  were  yet  of  sufficient  consequence 
to  be  persecuted.  They  had  attracted  the  notice  of  gov 
ernment.  They  were  looked  upon  as  fanatics  who  sought 
to  destroy  a  reverence  for  existing  institutions.  But  they 
had  not  as  yet  assailed  the  government,  or  the  great  social 
institutions  of  the  empire.  In  this  century  the  polity  of 
the  church  was  quietly  organized.  There  was  an  organ 
ized  fellowship  among  the  members  :  bishops  had  become 
influential,  not  in  society,  but  among  the  Christians  ;  dio 
ceses  and  parishes  were  established  ;  there  was  a  distinc 
tion  between  city  and  rural  bishops  ;  delegates  of  churches 
assembled  to  discuss  points  of  faith,  or  suppress  nascent 
heresies  ;  the  diocesan  system  was  developed,  and  ecclesi 
astical  centralization  commenced  ;  deacons  began  to  be 
reckoned  among  the  higher  clergy  ;  the  weapons  of  ex 
communication  were  forged ;  missionary  efforts  were  car 
ried  on  ;  the  festivals  of  the  church  were  created  ;  Gnos 
ticism  —  a  kind  of  philosophical  religion  —  was  embraced 
by  many  leading  minds  ;  catechetical  schools  taught  the 
faith  systematically ;  the  formulas  of  baptism  and  the  other 
sacraments  became  of  great  importance  ;  marriage  with 
unbelievers  was  discouraged  ;  and  monachism  became  pop- 


CHAP,  xiii.]       Rum  and  Desolation  of  Rome.  545 

ular.  The  internal  history  of  the  church  becomes  inter 
esting,  but  still  the  Christians  had  no  great  influence  out 
side  Their  own  body  ;  it  was  esoteric,  quiet,  unobtrusive  ; 
and  it  was  a  very  small  body  of  pure  and  blameless  men, 
who  did  not  aspire  to  control  society. 

While  the  church  was  thus  laying  the  foundation  of  its 
future  polity  and  power,  but  nothing  more,  and  failed  to 
attract  the  great,  or  men  of  ambitious  views  — those  who 
led  society  —  the  empire  was  approaching  a  most  fearful 
crisis.     Hadrian  had  built  a  wall  from  the  Rhine   The  empire^ 
to  the  Danube  to  arrest  the  incursions  of  barba-  state. 
rians;    the    Roman    garrisons    beyond  the  Danube  were 
withdrawn  ;  the  Goths  had  advanced  from  the  Vistula  and 
the  Oder  to  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea ;  the  Jews  were 
dispersed  ;  a  chaos  of  deities  was  in  the  Roman  Pantheon ; 
Grecian  philosophy  had  degenerated  ;  the  taste  of  the  peo 
ple  had  become  utterly  corrupt ;  games  and  festivals  were 
the  business  and  the  amusement  of  the  people  ;  the  des 
potism  of  the  emperors  had  utterly  annulled  all  rights  ;  a 
succession   of  feeble  and  wicked  princes  ruled  supreme; 
the  empire  was  falling  into  a  state  of  luxury  and  inglorious 
peace  ;  the  middle  classes  had  become  extinct  ;  and  dis 
proportionate  fortunes  had  vastly  increased  slavery.     The 
work  of  disintegration  had  commenced. 

The  third  century  saw  the  church  more  powerful  as  an 
institution.  Regular  synods  had  assembled  in  ^"ft 
the  great  cities  of  the  empire ;  the  metropolitan  century, 
system  was  matured;  the  canons  of  the  church  were 
definitely  enumerated ;  great  schools  of  theology  attracted 
inquiring  minds  ;  the  doctrines  of  faith  were  systematized  ; 
Christianity  had  spread  so  extensively  that  it  must  needs 
be  persecuted  or  legalized  ;  great  bishops  ruled  the  grow- 
ino-  church;  great  doctors  speculated  on  the  questions 
which  had  agitated  the  Grecian  schools  ;  church  edifices 
were  enlarged,  and  banquets  instituted  in  honor  of  the 
martyrs.  The  church  was  rapidly  advancing  to  a  posi- 


546     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XIII. 

tion  which  extorted  the  attention  of  mankind.  But  even 
so  late  as  the  close  of  the  third  century,  there  were  but  few 
Christians  eminent  for  riches  or  rank.  There  were  some 
great  bishops  like  Cyprian,  Hippolytus,  Victor,  Demetri 
us  ;  some  great  theologians  like  Origen,  Tertullian,  and 
Clement ;  some  great  heretics  like  Hermogones,  Sabellius, 
and  Novatian  —  all  marked  men,  immortal  men  ;  but  of 
no  great  influence  outside  their  ranks. 

What  could  they  do  in  a  time  of  so  much  public  misery 
and  misfortune  as  marked  the  empire  when  it  was  ruled 
by  monsters  ;  when  the  barbarians  had  obtained  a  foothold 
in  the  provinces  ;  when  the  capital  was  deserted  by  the 
emperors  for  the  camp ;  and  when  signs  of  decay  and  ruin 
were  apparent  to  all  thoughtful  minds  ? 

It  was  not  till  the  fourth  century — when  imperial  perse- 
The  church  cution  had  stopped  ;  when  Constantine  was  con- 

of  the  fourth 

century.  verted ;  when  the  church  was  allied  with  the 
state  ;  when  the  early  faith  was  itself  corrupted  ;  when 
superstition  and  vain  philosophy  had  entered  the  ranks 
of  the  faithful ;  when  bishops  became  courtiers ;  when 
churches  became  both  rich  and  splendid  ;  when  synods 
were  brought  under  political  influence  ;  when  monachists 
had  established  a  false  principle  of  virtue  ;  when  politics 
and  dogmatics  went  hand  in  hand,  and  emperors  enforced 
the  decrees  of  councils  —  that  men  of  rank  entered  the 
church,  and  the  church  had  a  visible  influence  on  the 
state.  It  was  not  till  the  fourth  century  that  such  great 
names  as  Arius,  Athanasius,  Hosius,  Eusebius,  Cyril  of 
Alexandria,  Hilary  of  Poictiers,  Martin  of  Tours,  Dio- 
dorus  of  Tarsus,  Ambrose  of  Milan,  Basil  of  Caesarea, 
Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  Gregory  Nazianzen,  Theophilus  of 
Alexandria,  Chrysostom  of  Constantinople,  arose  and  made 
their  voices  heard  in  the  council  chambers  of  the  great. 

But  when  the  church  had  become  a  mighty  and  recog 
nized  power,  when  it  had  assailed  social  institutions,  when 
it  drew  men  of  rank  into  its  folds,  when  it  was  no  longer 


CHAP,  xiii.]    Christians  Politically  Unimportant.  547 

an  obloquy  to  be  a  Christian — then  the  seat  of  empire  had 
been  removed  to  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus ;  Theempire 
then  the  Goths  and  Vandals  had  become  most 
formidable  enemies,  and  Theodosius,  the  last  great 
emperor,  was  making  a  brave  but  futile  attempt  Ohristianity- 
to  revive  the  glories  of  Trajan  and  the  Antonines.  The 
empire  was  crumbling  to  pieces  —  was  dying  —  and  even 
Christianity  could  not  save  it  politically. 

Thus,  when  Christianity  was  pure,  and  a  truly  renovat 
ing  religion,  it  had  no  social  influence  on  the  leaders  of 
rank  and  fashion.  How  could  people  of  no  political  or 
social  position,  who  were  objects  of  ridicule  and  contempt, 
have  effected  great  social  or  political  changes  ?  Until  their 
conversion,  they  had  not  modified  a  law,  and  still  less 
enacted  one.  How  could  they  reach  the  ear  of  those  who 
disdained,  repelled,  and  persecuted  them  ?  They  had  no 
influence  on  the  makers  or  the  executors  of  laws.  Thev 
could  not  call  in  the  vast  power  of  fashion,  for  they  had 
no  social  prestige.  They  could  not  create  a  public  opinion, 
for  they  were  obliged  to  hide  to  save  their  lives.  They 
had  no  learning  to  attract  philosophers.  They  were  not 
allowed  to  preach  in  public,  and  could  not  reach  the  peo 
ple.  They  had  no  schools,  nor  books,  nor  colleges.  They 
could  not  assail  public  institutions,  for  despotism  was  estab 
lished  and  was  irresistible.  There  was  no  liberty  of  speech 
by  which  they  might  have  made  converts  above  their  rank. 
They  could  not  subvert  slavery  without  influencing  those 
who  controlled  it.  They  could  not  destroy  disproportion 
ate  fortunes,  since  the  wealthy  were  protected  by  govern 
ment.  They  could  not  interfere  with  games  and  demoral 
izing  spectacles,  for  these  were  controlled  by  the  emper 
or  and  his  ministers,  whose  ear  they  could  not  reach,  and 
upon  whom  all  lofty  arguments  would  have  been  wasted. 
The  court,  the  army,  the  aristocracy,  rushed  with  head 
long  eagerness  into  excesses  and  pleasures,  which  could  not 
have  been  arrested  by  the  wise  and  good  of  their  own 


548     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

rank ;  much  less  by  a  class  who  were  obnoxious  and  for 
gotten.  The  Christians  could  not  even  utter  indignant 
protests  without  personal  danger,  to  which  they  were  not 
The  Chris-  called.  There  was  no  possible  way  of  presenting 
In^perfect  a  barrier  against  corruption,  outside  their  own 
against  cor-  ranks.  Obscure  men  in  these  times  can  write 
books,  but  not  under  the  empire  ;  now  they  can 
lecture  and  preach,  but  not  then.  They  were  obliged  to 
conceal  their  sentiments  when  there  was  danger  of  being 
suspected  of  being  Christians.  Those  who  have  observed 
the  resistless  tyranny  of  fashion  in  our  times  —  how  even 
Christians  are  drawn  into  its  eddies,  not  merely  in  such 
matters  as  dress,  and  houses,  and  education,  but  even  in 
pleasures  which  are  questionable,  and  in  opinions  which 
are  false  —  what  are  we  to  think  of  the  overwhelming  in 
fluence  of  fashion  at  Rome,  when  society  was  still  more 
artificial,  when  its  leaders  were  kings  and  tyrants,  and 
when  all  the  propensities  of  human  nature  were  in  accord 
ance  with  the  customs  handed  down  for  centuries,  and 
endorsed  by  all  who  were  powerful  in  ordinary  life.  If 
Christians  are  so  feeble  in  Paris,  London,  and  New  York, 
in  suppressing  acknowledged  evils  which  come  from  the 
world,  how  could  the  early  Christians  prevent  the  ascend 
ency  of  evils  among  those  over  whom  they  had  no  influ 
ence  —  perhaps  those  who  did  not  feel  them  to  be  evils  at 
all.  If  Christians  who  affect  great  social  position  in  our 
cities  cannot  break  up  theatres  and  other  demoralizing 
pleasures,  how  could  the  early  Christians  bring  the  games 
of  the  amphitheatre  into  disrepute?  If  social  evils  increase 
among  us  in  spite  of  churches  and  schools  and  a  free  press 
and  lectures,  how  could  we  expect  them  to  decrease  when 
no  power  was  exerted  to  bring  them  into  disrepute,  and 
when  the  general  tone  of  society  was  infinitely  lower  than 
in  the  worst  capitals  of  modern  times  ?  What  would 
wealthy  senators,  with  their  armies  of  clients  and  slaves, 
or  the  frivolous  courtiers  of  godless  emperors,  or  the  sensual 


CHAP,  xiii.]          Unable  to  arrest  Degeneracy.  549 

equestrians  who  composed  a  moneyed  class,  care  for  oppo 
sition  to  their  pleasures  from  those  whom  they  despised, 
and  with  whom  they  never  associated,  and  who  had  no 
influence  on  public  opinion?  The  Christians  could  not, 
and  dared  not,  make  their  voices  heard,  to  any  extent, 
outside  their  own  esoteric  circle.  They  had  an  ^he  Chris- 

...      t  ij  •          tians  an  esot- 

influence,    or   their    circle    could   not    have    in-  ericbandof 
creased,  but  it  was  private  and  concealed.     Arti 
sans  talked  with  artisans,  servants  with  servants,  soldiers 
with  soldiers.     They  converted,  quietly  and  unobtrusively, 
by  private  talk  and'blameless  lives,  those  with  whom  alone 
they  freely  mingled.     Thus  their  numbers  multiplied,  but 
their  prestige  did  not  increase,  until  these  mechanics  and 
laborers  and  slaves  exercised  some  fortunate  influence,  by 
occasional  entreaties,  on  their  haughty  masters.     A  favor 
ite  slave  could  sometimes  gain  the  ear  of  the  lady  whose 
hair  she   dressed  ;    or  some  veteran   and  trusted  servant 
might  persuade  an  indulgent  master  to  listen  to  the  new 
truths  which  were  such  a  life  to  him.     Thus  the  circle  of 
the  Christians  gradually  embraced  some  of  the  more  can 
did  and  intellectual  and    fearless    of  the    great.     But   it 
should  be  borne  in  mind  that  as  the  circle  was  enlarged, 
especially  so  as  to  embrace  people  whose  lives  had  been 
egotistical  and  self-indulgent,  the  standard  of  morality  was 
lowered,     Also    we    should    remember,  as   the   circle   in 
creased,  even  of  devout  believers,  that  vice  and  degener 
acy  increased  also  outside  the  circle,  and  also  as  Christians 
rapidly.     The  overwhelming  current  of  corrup-  SSISL  thd* 
tion  swept  every  thing  away  before  it.     What  if  r 
the  small  minority  were  virtuous,  when  the  vast  majority 
were  vicious.     They  were  only  witnesses  of  truth  ;  they 
were  not  triumphant  conquerors   of  error.      If  the  state 
could  have  lasted   a  thousand  years  longer  in  peace  and 
prosperity,    then    the   leaven   of  the    Gospel  might    have 
leavened  the  whole  lump.     But  the  barbarians  could  not 
wait  for  society  to  be  renovated.    They  came  when  society 


550     WJiy  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Rain.    [CHAP.  xni. 

was  most,  enervated.  When  the  Christians  had  gained 
sufficient  influence  to  stop  the  games  of  the  circus  and  the 
amphitheatre  ;  when  they  had  induced  emperors  to  mod 
ify  slavery ;  when  they  uttered  protests  against  demoraliz 
ing  amusements,  the  barbarians  had  advanced,  and  were 
becoming  the  new  masters  of  the  empire.  The  prayers  of 
Augustine,  the  letters  of  Jerome,  the  sermons  of  Chrysos- 
tom,  the  ascetic  example  of  Basil,  could  no  more  arrest 
the  march  of  the  avengers  of  centuries  of  misrule  than  the 
intercession  of  Abraham  could  stop  the  thunderbolts  of 
God  on  the  guilty  inhabitants  of  Sodom.  The  Roman 
world,  so  long  abandoned  to  every  folly  and  sin,  must  reap 
the  bitter  fruit.  It  was  no  reproach  to  Christianity  that  it 
did  not  avert  the  consequences  of  sin,  any  more  than  it 
was  a  reproach  to  Jonah  that  he  could  not  save  Nineveh. 
If  Christianity  effects  so  little  with  us,  when  there  are  no 
opposing  religions,  and  all  institutions  are  professedly  in 
harmony  with  it  ;  when  it  controls  the  press  and  the 
schools  and  the  literature  of  the  country  ;  when  its 
churches  are  gilded  with  the  emblem  of  our  redemption 
in  every  village  ;  when  its  ministers  go  forth  unopposed,  and 
have  every  facility  of  delivering  their  message,  even  to  the 
wise  and  mighty ;  when  philanthropy  comes  in  with  its 
mighty  arm  and  knocks  off  the  fetters  of  the  slave,  and 
sends  the  Gospel  to  every  land  —  how  could  it  affect 
society  when  every  influence  was  against  it.  If  religion 
wanes  before  the  dazzling  forces  of  a  brilliant  material 
civilization,  and  scarcely  holds  her  own,  when  all  profess 
to  be  governed  by  Christian  truth,  so  that  in  a  moral  and 
spiritual  view,  society  rather  retrogrades  than  advances,  I 
am  amazed  that  it  made  so  considerable  a  progress  in  the 
Roman  empire,  and  increased  from  generation  to  genera 
tion  until  it  shook  the  throne  of  emperors.  And  the  ex 
ample  of  the  early  church  would  seem  to  indicate  that 
religion  can  only  spread  in  a  healthy  manner  by  constantly 
guarding  and  purifying  those  who  profess  it.  It  would 


CHAP,  xiii.]  The   Church  Powerless.  551 

seem  that  the  true  mission  of  the  church  is  to  elevate  her 
own  members  rather  than  to  mingle  in  scenes  which  have 
a  corrupting  influence.  It  is  not  easy  to  make  the  theatre 
a  means  of  moral  improvement,  for  it  will  be  deserted 
when  it  rises  above  popular  tastes,  and  the  more  it  panders 
to  these  tastes  the  more  it  flourishes.  The  theatre  may 
have  been  elevated  at  Athens,  when  the  citizens  who 
thronged  to  hear  the  plays  of  Sophocles  were  themselves 
cultivated.  Racine  may  have  been  relished  at  Versailles, 
but  only  because  the  court  of  a  great  king  composed 
the  audience.  The  theatre  never  rises  above  the  taste  of 
those  who  patronize  it.  Christian  teachings  would  have 
been  spurned  at  Rome  even  had  there  been  no  persecution. 
The  church  flourished  because  it  instructed  its  own  mem 
bers,  and  quietly  gained  an  extension  of  its  influence,  not 
because  it  appealed  to  those  who  opposed  it.  The  church, 
in  those  days,  was  not  a  philanthropical  institution,  or  an 
educational  enterprise,  or  a  network  of  agencies  and  "in 
strumentalities  "  to  bring  to  bear  on  society  at  large  cer 
tain  ameliorating  influences  or  benignant  reforms.  Thechurch 
These  were  beyond  its  reach.  But  it  was  a  JXdlTits 
secret  body  of  believers,  a  kind  of  freemasonry  circle< 
which  aimed  to  control  and  reform  those  who  belonged  to 
it.  Its  rules  were  for  members,  not  the  outside  world. 
Hence  the  history  of  the  early  church  refers  chiefly  to  its 
discipline,  to  its  officers,  to  the  management  of  dioceses,  to 
councils,  holydays,  festivals,  liturgies,  creeds,  bearing  only 
on  its  own  internal  organization.  The  members  of  this 
secret  society  lived  apart  from  the  world,  absorbed  in  their 
own  spiritual  interests,  or  seeking  to  save  the  souls  of 
those  with  whom  they  came  in  contact.  The  true  tri 
umphs  of  Christianity  were  seen  in  making  good  men  of 
those  who  professed  her  doctrines,  rather  than  changing 
outwardly  popular  institutions,  or  government,  or  laws,  or 
even  elevating  the  great  mass  of  unbelievers.  And  it  is 
more  comforting  to  feel  that  the  church  was  small  and 


552     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xni. 

pure  than  that  it  was  large  and  corrupt.  And  for  three 
centuries  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  Christians, 
if  feeble  in  influence  and  few  in  numbers  when  compared 
with  the  whole  population,  were  remarkable  for  their 
graces  and  virtues  —  for  their  noble  resistance  to  those 
temptations  which  enthrall  so  great  a  number  of  our  mod 
ern  believers.  Insignificant  in  every  public  sense,  they 
may  not  have  lifted  up  their  voices  against  the  system  of 
slavery  which  did  so  much  to  undermine  the  state  ;  they 
may  not  have  lectured  against  the  despotic  power  of  the 
imperator ;  they  may  have  taken  but  little  interest  in  poli 
tics,  rendering  unto  Caesar  whatever  was  due,  whether 
taxes  or  obedience  ;  they  may  not  have  formed  schools  or 
colleges  or  lyceums ;  they  may  not  have  meddled  with 
any  thing  outside  their  ranks,  except  to  preach  temperance, 
justice,  and  a  judgment  to  come,  and  a  Saviour  who  was 
crucified,  and  a  heaven  to  be  obtained  ;  but  they  did  prac 
tice  among  themselves  all  the  duties  enjoined  by  Christ 
and  his  Apostles  ;  they  refused  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods  of 
pagan  antiquity  ;  they  visited  no  shows  ;  they  attended 
no  pageants ;  they  gave  no  sumptuous  banquets ;  they 
did  not  witness  the  games  of  the  theatre  and  the  circus  ; 
they  did  not  play  at  dice,  or  take  usury,  or  dye  their  hair, 
or  wear  absurd  ornaments,  or  indulge  in  unseemly  festivi 
ties  ;  they  detested  astrologers  and  soothsayers,  shrines, 
images,  and  idolatry  ;  they  kept  the  Sabbath,  educated 
their  children  in  the  faith,  settled  their  disputes  without 
going  to  law,  were  patient  under  injuries,  were  charitable 
and  unobtrusive,  were  full  of  faith  and  love,  practicing 
the  severest  virtues,  devout  and  spiritual  when  all  were 
worldly  and  frivolous  around  them,  ready  for  the  martyr's 
pile,  and  looking  to  the  martyr's  crown.  That  Christianity 
should  have  rescued  so  many  from  the  pollution  of  pagan 
ism  in  such  general  degeneracy,  is  very  wonderful.  That 
it  should  have  extended  its  circle  of  sincere  believers  amid 
increasing  degeneracy,  is  still  more  so,  and  is  a  most  en- 


CHAP,  xiii.]      Tendency  to   Oriental  Speculations.  553 

couraging  fact  to  the  friends  of  religious  progress.     If  it 
could   not   reach    the    fashionable    and    the   worldly   wise 
before  society    was    undermined,  and   the    provinces  had 
become  the   prey  of  barbarians,  it   still   could  boast  of  a 
glorious  army  of  martyrs,  witnesses  of  the  truth,  whom  all 
ages  will  hold  in  veneration,  precious  seed  for  future  and 
better  times.     If  Christianity,   when    it  was  a  life,  —  a 
great  transforming  and  renovating  power,  reforming  what 
was  bad,  conserving  what  was  good,  —  had  but  little  influ 
ence  beyond  the  circle  of  believers,  still  less  could  it  save 
the  empire    when  it  was  itself  corrupted,  when  gj^anity 
it  was  a  mere  nominal  religion,  however  exten-  rupted. 
sively  it  had  spread.     When  it  became  the  religion  of  the 
court  and  of  the  fashionable  classes,  it  was  used  to  sup 
port  the  very  evils  against  which  it  originally  protested, 
and  which  it  was  designed  to  remove. 

It  first  adopted  many  of  the  errors  of  the  oriental 
philosophy.  Gnosticism  was  embraced  by  many  itadopts^ 
of  the  leading  intellects  of  the  church.  It  was  rors. 
the  reaction  of  that  old  aristocratic  spirit  which  had  ruled 
the  pagan  world.  It  was  an  eclecticism  of  knowledge  and 
culture  which  had  originally  despised  the  doctrines  of  the 
Cross.  It  united  the  oriental  theosophy  with  the  Platonic 
philosophy,  both  of  which  were  proud,  exclusive^  disdain 
ful.  "  It  drew  a  distinction  between  the  man  of  intellect, 
whose  vocation  it  was  to  know,  and  the  man  who  could  not 
rise  above  blind  and  implicit  faith."  The  early  Christians 
were  characterized  for  the  simplicity  of  their  faith.  But 
with  the  triumphs  of  faith  arose  the  cravings  for  knowl 
edge  among  the  more  cultivated  part  of  the  converts. 

Paul  had  seemingly  discouraged  all  vain  speculations, 
and  the  Grecian  spirit  of  philosophy,  believing  that  they 
would  not  avail  to  the  explanation  of  the  Christian  mys 
teries,  but  rather  prove  a  stumbling-block  and  a  folly, 
since  the  realm  of  faith  was  essentially  different  from  the 
realm  of  reason  —  not  necessarily  antagonistic,  but  dis- 


554     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP,  xin 

tinct.  This  fundamental  principle  has  ever  been  main 
tained  by  the  more  orthodox  leaders  of  the  church  —  by 
Athanasius,  Augustine,  Bernard,  Pascal,  Calvin  —  even  as 
the  fundamental  principle  of  sound  philosophy  which  Bacon 
advocated,  that  the  world  of  experience  and  observation 
could  not  be  explained  by  metaphysical  deductions,  has 
been  the  cause  of  all  great  modern  progress  in  the  sciences. 
The  Gnostics,  the  men  who  aimed  at  superior  knowledge, 
disdained  the  humbling  doctrine  of  Paul,  which  made  faith 
supreme  over  all  forms  of  philosophy,  and  were  the  first  to 
seek  solutions  of  difficult  points  of  theology  by  abstruse  in 
quiries  —  honorable  to  the  intellect,  but  subversive  of  that 
docile  spirit  which  Christianity  enjoined.  This  tendency 
to  speculation  was  unfortunate,  but  natural  to  those  active 
minds  who  sought  to  discover  a  connection  between  the 
truths  taught  by  revelation,  and  those  which  we  arrive  at 
by  consciousness.  Grecian  philosophy,  when  most  lofty, 
as  expressed  by  Plato,  was  based  on  these  mental  posses 
sions —  these  internal  convictions  reached  by  logic  and  re 
flection.  What  more  harmless,  and  even  praiseworthy,  to 
all  appearance,  than  was  this  earnest  attempt  to  reconcile 
Attempts  to  reason  witli  faith  ?  The  finest  minds  and  charac- 
reason'with  ters  °f  tne  church  entered  into  the  discussion 
with  singular  intensity  and  ardor.  They  would 
explain  the  Man-God,  the  Trinity,  the  Word  made  flesh, 
and  all  the  other  points  which  grew  out  of  grace  and  free 
will.  A  dialectical  spirit  arose,  which  combated  or  ex 
plained  what  had  formerly  been  received  with  unquestion 
ing  submission.  In  the  first  century  there  was  scarcely 
any  need  of  creeds,  for  the  faith  of  the  Christians  was 
united  on  a  few  simple  doctrines,  such  as  are  expressed 
in  the  Apostles'  Creed.  In  the  second  and  third  centuries 
agitations  and  speculations  began,  and  with  the  Gnostics, 
that  class  who  invoked  the  aid  of  Oriental  and  Grecian 
philosophies  in  the  propagation  of  the  new  religion.  It 
was  to  be  made  dependent  on  human  speculation  —  a  most 


CHAP.  XIIL] 


G-nosticism.  555 

dangerous   error,   since  it  reproduced  the   very  wisdom 
which  knew  not  God,  and  which  the  Apostles  ignored, 
ushered  in  the  reign  of  rationalism,  which  still  refuses  t< 
abdicate  her  throne,  and  winch  is  absolutely  rampant  and 
exulting  in  the  great  universities  of  the  most  learned  and 
inquiring  of  European  nations. 

But  Gnosticism  partook  more  of  the  haughty  and  ex 
clusive  spirit  of  the  eastern  sages,  than   of  the   Gnosticism 
patient    and    inquiring    nature    of    the    Grecian 
schools.     It   soared  into  regions  whither  even   Platomsm 
did  not  presume  to  venture.     It  sought  to  subject  even  the 
Grecian  mind  to  its  wild  and  lofty  flights.     The  doctrines 
which  Zoroaster  taught  pertaining  to  the  two  antagonistic 
principles    of   good    and    evil  —  the    oriental    dualism  - 
Parsism  had  great  fascination,  especially  to  those  who  were 
inclined  to  monastic  seclusion.     The  spirit  of  Evil,  which 
seemed  to  be  dominant  on  earth,  and  which  was  associated 
with  material  things,  chained  the  soul  to  sense.     The  soul, 
lono-ing  for  truth  and  holiness  — for  God  and  heaven  - 
parted  to  be  free  of  the  corrupting  influences  of  matter, 
which  imprisoned  the  noblest  part  of  man.     The  oriental 
Christian,   not  fully   emancipated    from   the    spirit   which 
Buddhism  communicated  to  all  the  countries  of  the  East- 
that  is,  the  longing  of  the  soul  for  the  release  from  matter, 
its  reunion  with  the  primal  power  from  which  all  life  has 
flowed,   and  the  estrangement  from  human    passions  and 
worldly  interests-sought  repose  and  retirement  where  the 
mind  would  be  free  to  dwell  on  the  great  questions  which 
pertained  to  God  and  immortality.    The  dualistic  principle, 
one  of  the  chief  elements  of  Gnosticism,  harmonized  with 
the  prevailing  temper  of  that  age,  even  as  the  pantheistic 
principle  rules  the  schools  of  philosophy  in  our  own       A  1 
Christians  were  alive  to  consciousness  of  the  power  of  evil. 
Gnosticism  recognized  it.     Christianity  triumphs    over  it 
by  the  power  of  the  Cross   which  procures  redemption. 
Gnosticism   would  work  out  salvation   by  abstractions,  by 


556    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XIII 

ascetic  severities,  by  a  renunciation  of  the  pleasures  of  the 
world.  Hence  it  is  the  real  father  of  monasticism  —  that 
spirit  of  seclusion  and  self-abnegation  which  became  so 
prevalent  in  the  third  and  fourth  centuries,  and  which 
remained  in  the  church  through  the  medieval  period. 
Gnosticism  busied  itself  with  the  solution  of  insoluble 
questions  respecting  the  origin  of  evil,  which  Christianity 
justly  relinquished  to  the  domain  of  useless  inquiries  — 
"  the  wisdom  of  the  world."  Gnosticism  would  acknowl 
edge  no  limits  to  human  speculation  ;  Christianity  accepts 
mysteries  hidden  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  yet  re 
vealed  unto  babes.  Hence  all  sorts  of  crudities  of  belief 
crept  into  the  church,  such  as  the  idea  of  the  demiurge, 
and  the  different  ways  of  contemplating  the  person  of 
Christ.  Moreover,  the  Gnostics  subjected  the  New  Testa 
ment  to  the  boldest  criticism,  affirming  it  to  be  impossible 
to  arrive  at  the  true  doctrines  of  Christ ;  and  hence  they 
sought  to  go  beyond  Christ,  explaining  difficult  subjects 
by  rationalistic  interpretations.  Cerinthus  placed  a  bound 
less  chasm  between  God  and  the  world,  and  filled  it  up 
with  different  orders  of  spirits  as  intermediate  beings. 
Basilides  supposed  an  angel  was  set  over  the  entire  earthly 
course  of  the  world.  Valentine  announced  the  distinc 
tion  between  a  psychical  and  pneumatical  Christianity. 
Ptolemseus  maintained  that  the  creation  of  the  world  did 
not  proceed  from  the  supreme  God.  Bardesanes  sought 
to  trace  the  vestiges  of  truth  among  people  of  every 
nation.  Carpocrates  maintained  that  all  existence  flowed 
from  one  supreme  original  being,  to  whom  it  strives  to 
return.  Prodicus  asserted  that  as  men  were  sons  of  the 
supreme  God,  a  royal  race,  they  were  bound  by  no 
law.  Saturnine  advanced  a  fanciful  system  on  the  cre 
ation.  Tatian  advocated  the  mortality  of  the  soul.  Mar- 
cion  attempted  to  sunder  the  God  of  Nature  and  the  God 
of  the  Old  Testament  from  the  God  of  the  Gospel.  It  is 
difficult  to  enumerate  all  the  fanciful  theories  propounded 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Mystical  Philosophy.  557 

by  the  Gnostics,   and  which   arose  from   the    attempt  to 
engraft  Orientalism  upon  Christianity. 

A  still  greater  attempt  to  blend  Christianity  with  the 
religions  of  ancient  Asia  was  made  by  Mani,  a  Manichei8m 
Persian,  who  especially  attempted  to  fuse  Zoro- 
astrian  with  Christian  doctrines.  He  aimed  to  produce 
the  utmost  estrangement  from  all  mundane  influences, 
since  the  evil  principle  held  in  bondage  the  elements  spring 
ing  out  of  the  kingdom  of  light.  Deliverance  from  this 
bondage  he  regarded  as  the  great  end  and  aim  of  life.  His 
spirit  was  pantheistic,  probably  derived  from  Buddhism, 
which  he  had  learned  during  his  extensive  journeys  into 
India  and  China.  He  adopted  the  dualism  of  Zoroaster, 
and  supposed  two  principles  antagonistic  to  each  other,  on 
the  one  side  God,  the  primal  light,  from  whom  all  light 
radiates,  on  the  other  side  Evil,  whose  essence  is  self-con 
flicting  uproar,  matter,  darkness.  Most  nearly  connected 
with  the  supreme  God  were  JEons,  —  the  channels  for  the 
diffusion  of  light,  —  innumerable  in  number  and  of  sur 
passing  greatness.  The  ^Eon-mother  of  life  generated  the 
primitive  man  to  oppose  the  powers  of  darkness.  Hence 
man's  nature  is  full  of  dignity,  although  he  was  worsted  in 
the  conflict  with  Evil.  But  the  spirit  raises  him  once  more 
to  the  kingdom  of  light,  and  purifies  his  soul  which  sprung 
from  the  primitive  man.  The  pure  soul  is  Christ,  en 
throned  in  the  sun,  superior  to  all  contact  with  matter, 
and  incapable  of  suffering. 

These  were  some  of  the  features  of  that  mystical  philos 
ophy  which  made  Christ  the  spirit  of  the  sun,  giving  light 
and  life  to  the  soul  imprisoned  in  the  kingdom  of  dark 
ness.  Man  thus  becomes  a  copy  of  the  world  of  light  and 
darkness,  struggling  against  matter,  elevated  by  the  source 
Of  life  —  a  soul  living  in  the  kingdom  of  light,  and  a  body 
derived  from  the  kingdom  of  darkness,  and  enticed  by 
all  the  pleasures  of  sense,  and  thus  drawn  down  to  the 
world  which  is  matter  and  evil,  counteracted  by  the  angel 


558    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 


of  light.  This  is  the  dualism  which  formed  the  essential 
element  of  the  Manichean  speculations,  so  congenial  to  the 
mystic  theogonies  of  the  East,  and  which  was  embraced  by 
a  portion  of  the  eastern  church,  especially  by  those  who 
were  fascinated  by  the  refinements  and  pretensions  of  a 
philosophy  which  aimed  to  solve  the  highest  problems  of 
existence  —  the  nature  of  God,  and  the  creation  of  man. 
These  daring  speculations,  which  led  astray  so 

Mysticism.  .  .    .  .      ,  ,  "       . 

many  inquiring  minds,  were,  however,  too  mysti 
cal  and  indefinite  to  reach  the  popular  mind,  and  they 
pertained  to  questions  which  did  not  shock  Christian  in 
stincts,  like  those  which  attacked  the  person  or  the  offices 
of  Christ.  Gnosticism  was  viewed  as  a  sort  of  Judaism, 
inasmuch  as  it  did  not  rest  its  exclusiveness  on  the  title  of 
birth,  but  on  especial  knowledge  communicated  to  the  en 
lightened  few.  It  was  a  philosophy  whose  esoteric  doc 
trines  soared  above  the  comprehension  of  the  vulgar  ;  but 
it  affected  more  than  the  surface  of  society ;  it  poisoned  the 
minds  of  those  who  aspired  to  lead  the  intelligence  of  the 
age.  Its  spirit  was  antagonistic  to  the  simplicity  of  the  faith, 
and  so,  as  it  prevailed,  was  an  influence  much  to  be  dreaded, 
and  called  forth  the  greatest  energies  of  the  Alexandrian 
school,  in  order  to  defeat  it  and  nullify  it.  But  its 
dangerous  seeds  remained  to  germinate  a  rationalistic 
theology,  especially  when  united  with  the  Neo-Platonic 
philosophy. 

But  the  church  was  not  only  impregnated  with  the 
Adoption  of  errors  °f  pagan  philosophy,  but  it  adopted  many 
emontoand  °^  tne  ceremonials  of  oriental  worship,  which 
pomps.  were  both  minute  and  magnificent.  If  any  thing 
marked  the  primitive  church  it  was  the  simplicity  of  wor 
ship,  and  the  absence  of  ceremonies  and  festivals  and  gor 
geous  rites.  The  churches  became,  in  the  fourth  century, 
as  imposing  as  the  old  temples  of  idolatry.  The  festivals 
became  authoritative  ;  at  first  they  were  few  in  number, 
and  purely  voluntary.  It  was  supposed  that  when  Chris- 


CHAP.  XIIL]  Monastic  Life. 

tianity  superseded  Judaism,  the  obligations  to  observe  the 
ceremonies  of  the  Mosaic  law  were  abrogated.     Neither 
the  apostles  nor  evangelists  imposed  the  yoke  of  servitude, 
but  left  Easter  and  every  other  feast  to  be  honored  by  the 
gratitude  of  the  recipients  of  grace.     The  change  in  opin 
ion,  in  the  fourth  century,  called  out  the  severe  animad 
version  of  the  historian  Socrates,  but  it  was  useless  to  stem 
the  current  of  the   age.     Festivals  became  frequent  and 
imposing.     The  people   clung  to  them   because  they  ob 
tained  a  cessation   from   labor,   and  obtained  excitement. 
The  ancient  rubrics  mention  only  those  of  the  Passion,  of 
Easter,  of  Whitsunday,  Christmas,  and  the  descent  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.     But  there  followed  the  celebration  of  the 
death  of  Stephen,  the  memorial  of  John,  the  commemora 
tion  of  the  slaughter  of  the  Innocents,  the  feast  of  Epiph 
any,  the  feast  of  Purification,  and  others,  until  the  Catholic 
Church  had  some  celebration  for   some   saint  and  martyr 
for  every  day  in  the   year.     They  contributed  to  create 
a  craving  for  an  outward  religion,  which  appealed  to  the 
senses  and  the  sensibilities  rather  than  the  heart.     They 
led  to  innumerable  quarrels  and  controversies  about  unim 
portant  points,  especially  in  relation  to  the  celebration  of 
Easter.     They  produced  a  delusive  persuasion  respecting 
piWimao-es,  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  the  sanctifying  effects 
of  "the  sacraments.     Veneration  for  martyrs  ripened  into 
the  introduction   of  images  — a  future  source  of  popular 
idolatry.     Christianity  was  emblazoned  in  pompous  cere 
monies.     The  veneration  for  saints  approximated  to  their 
deification,  and  superstition  exalted  the  mother  of  our  Lord 
into   an    object    of  absolute    worship.     Communion-tables 
became  imposing  altars  typical  of  Jewish  sacrifices,  and  the 
relics  of  martyrs  were  preserved  as  sacred  amulets. 

Monastic  life  ripened  also  into  a  grand  system  of  penance, 
and  expiatory  rites,  such  as  characterized  orien-  Monastw 
tal  asceticism.    Armies  of  monks  retired  to  gloomy 
and  isolated  places,  and  abandoned  themselves  to  rhapso- 


560    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

dies  and  fastings  and  self-expiations,  in  opposition  to  the 
grand  doctrine  of  Christ's  expiation.  They  despaired  of 
society,  and  abandoned  the  world  to  its  fate  — a  dismal 
and  fanatical  set  of  men,  overlooking  the  practical  aims  of 
life.  They  lived  more  like  beasts  and  savages  than  en 
lightened  Christians  —  wild,  fierce,  solitary,  superstitious, 
ignorant,  fanatical,  filthy,  clothed  in  rags,  eating  the  coars 
est  food,  practicing  gloomy  austerities,  introducing  a  false 
standard  of  virtue,  regardless  of  the  comforts  of  civilization, 
and  careless  of  those  great  interests  which  were  intrusted 
them  to  guard.  They  were  often  men  of  extraordinary 
virtue  and  influence,  and  their  lives  were  not  assailed  by 
great  temptations.  They  abstained  from  marriage,  and 
celibacy  came  to  be  regarded  as  the  angelic  virtue  —  a 
proof  of  the  highest  and  purest  Christian  life.  Vast  num 
bers  of  men  left  the  sanctities  and  beatitudes  of  home  for 
a  cheerless  life  in  the  desert,  and  their  gloomy  and  repul 
sive  austerities  were  magnified  into  extraordinary  virtues. 
The  monks  and  hermits  sought  to  save  themselves  by 
climbing  to  Heaven  by  the  same  ladder  that  had  been 
sought  by  the  sooh's  and  the  fakirs,  —  which  delusion 
had  an  immense  influence  in  undermining  the  doctrines  of 
grace.  Christianity  was  fast  merging  itself  into  an  orien 
tal  theosophy. 

Again  the   clergy  became  ambitious  and   worldly,  and 
Ambition       sought  rank  and  distinction.    They  even  thronged 

and  wealth  i  •        i 

of  the  clergy,  the  courts  of  princes,  and  aspired  to  temporal 
honors.  They  were  no  longer  supported  by  the  voluntary 
contributions  of  the  faithful,  but  by  revenues  supplied  by 
government,  or  property  inherited  from  the  old  temples. 
Great  legacies  were  made  to  the  church  by  the  rich,  and 
these  the  clergy  controlled.  These  bequests  became  sources 
of  inexhaustible  wealth.  As  wealth  increased,  and  was 
intrusted  to  the  clergy,  they  became  indifferent  to  the 
wants  of  the  people,  no  longer  supported  by  them.  They 
became  lazy,  arrogant,  and  independent.  The  people  were 


CHAP.  XIIL]         Secularization  of  the  Church.  561 

shut  out  of  the  government  of  the  church.  The  bishop  be 
came  a  grand  personage,  who  controlled  and  appointed  his 
clergy.  The  church  was  allied  with  the  state,  and  relig- 
ious^dogmas  were  enforced  by  the  sword  of  the  magistrate. 
An  imposing  hierarchy  was  established,  of  various  grades, 
which  culminated  in  the  bishop  of  Rome.  The  emperor 
decided  points  of  faith,  and  the  clergy  were  exempted  from 
the  burdens  of  the  state.  There  was  a  great  flocking  to 
the  priestly  offices  when  the  clergy  wielded  so  much  power, 
and  became  so  rich ;  and  men  were  elevated  to  great  sees, 
not  because  of  their  piety  or  talents,  but  influence  with  the 
great.  What  a  falling  off  from  the  teachings  of  the  orig 
inal  clergy,  when  bishops  were  the  companions  of  princes 
rather  than  preachers  to  the  poor,  and  when  the  clergy 
could  live  without  the  offerings  of  the  people,  and  were 
appointed  from  favor  and  not  from  merit.  The  spiritual 
mission  of  the  church  was  lost  sight  of  in  a  degrading  alli 
ance  with  the  state  and  the  world.  "  Make  me  bishop  of 
Rome,"  said  a  pagan  general,  "  and  I  too  would  become 
a  Christian." 

When  Christianity  itself  was  in  such  need  of  reform, 
when  Christians  could  scarcely  be  distinguished  ^^ 
from  pagans  in  love  of  display,  and  in  egotistical  the  world, 
ends,  how  could  it  reform  the  world  ?  When  it  was  a 
pageant,  a  ritualism,  an  arm  of  the  state,  a  vain  philos 
ophy,  a  superstition,  a  formula,  how  could  it  save,  if  ever 
so  dominant  ?  The  corruptions  of  the  church  in  the  fourth 
century  are  as  well  authenticated  as  the  purity  and  moral 
elevation  of  Christians  in  the  second  century.  Isaac  Tay 
lor  has  presented  a  most  mournful  view  of  the  state  of 
Christian  society  when  the  religion  of  the  cross  had  become 
the  religion  of  the  state.  And  the  corruptions  kept  pace 
with  the  outward  triumphs  of  the  faith,  especially  when 
the  pagans  had  yielded  to  the  supremacy  of  the  cross. 
The  same  fact  is  noticeable  in  the  history  of  Mohammed 
anism.  When  it  was  first  declared  by  the  extraordinary 


or  ~rr, 


f;62     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xui. 

man  who  claimed  to  be  the  greatest  of  the  prophets  of 
God,  when  it  was  a  sublime  theism,  immeasurably  supe 
rior  to  the  prevailing  religions  of  Arabia,  and  especially 
when  it  was  promulgated  by  moral  means,  its  converts 
were  few,  but  these  were  lofty.  When  it  was  extended  by 
an  appeal  to  the  sword,  and  to  the  bad  passions  of  men, 
when  it  gave  a  promise  of  demoralizing  joys,  and  was  em 
braced  by  powerful  classes  and  chieftains,  it  had  rapidly 
extended  over  Asia  and  Africa,  and  even  invaded  Europe. 
Mohammedanism  doubtless  prevailed  in  consequence  of  its 
very  errors,  by  adapting  itself  to  the  corrupt  inclinations 
of  mankind.  If  it  prospered  by  means  of  its  truths,  why 
was  its  progress  so  slow  when  it  was  comparatively  pure 
and  elevated  ?  The  outward  triumphs  of  a  religion  are  no 
indications  of  its  purity,  since  the  more  corrupt  it  is  the 
more  popular  it  will  be,  and  the  purer  it  is  the  less  likely 
it  is  to  be  embraced,  except  by  a  few,  whom  God  designs 
to  be  witnesses  of  his  power  and  truth.  Buddhism  and 
Brahminism  have  more  adherents  than  Mohammedanism, 
and  Mohammedanism  more  than  Christianity,  and  Roman 
Catholic  Christianity  has  more  than  Protestantism,  and 
Protestantism,  when  it  is  a  life,  is  narrowed  down  to  a 
very  small  body  of  believers.  Christianity  which  is  popu 
lar  and  fashionable,  is  not  necessarily  elevated  and  enno 
bling,  and  when  it  is  fashionable  or  popular  is  very  apt  to 
assume  the  forms  of  an  imposing  ritualism,  or  to  be  blended 
with  philosophical  speculations,  or  to  sink  to  the  degrada 
tion  of  superstitious  rites  and  ceremonies.  When  Chris 
tianity  falls  to  the  level  of  prevailing  fashions  and  customs 
and  opinions,  it  has  not  a  very  powerful  renovating  influ 
ence  on  human  life.  The  Jesuits  made  great  conquests  in 
Japan  and  China,  but  how  barren  they  have  proved.  The 
Puritans  planted  the  barren  hills  of  New  England  with 
stern  and  rugged  believers  in  a  spiritual  and  personal  God, 
and  they  have  extended  their  principles  throughout  the 
country.  What  renovating  influence  has  the  nominal 


CHAP,  xiii.]     Christianity  a   Witness  of  Truth.  563 

Christianity  of  South  America,  or  Spain,  or  Italy  ?     The 
religion  embraced  by  the  wise  and  great  is  apt  to  become 
a  rationalism,  and  that  professed  by  the  degraded  populace 
to  become    a  superstition.     The  reception  of  Christianity 
in  the  heart  implies  sacrifices  and  self-denial,  and  will  not 
be  cordially  embraced  except  by  a  few  thus  far,  in  any  age. 
The  Lollards  in  England,  in  the  time  of  Henry  VII.,  were 
a  feeble  body,  but  they  did  more  to  infuse  a  religious  life 
than   the   whole  machinery  and  influence  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.     And  as  soon  as  the  Church  of  England 
gained  over  the  state,  and  became  established,  it  began  to 
degenerate,  and  had  need  of  successive   reforms.     How 
feeble  every  form  of  dissent  as  a  truly  renovating  power 
when  it  has  become  triumphant !     What  have  the  fashion 
able  court  religions  of  Europe  done  towards  the  real  regen 
eration  of  society  ?     Protestantism  in  Germany,  when  it 
was  protesting,  had  a  mighty  life.     When  universities  and 
courts  accepted  it,  it  became  a  poisonous  rationalism,  or  a 
dead  formula.     Puritanism,  established  in  New  England 
just  previous  to  the  Revolution,  was  a  very  different  thing 
from  what  it  was  when  its  adherents  were  exiles  and  wan 
derers.     It  spread  and  was  honored,  but  retained  chiefly  its 
forms,  its  traditions,  its  animosities.     How  rapidly  the  Hu 
guenots  degenerated  after  the  battle  of  Ivry  !    Even  Jesuit 
ism  could  not  stand  before  its  own  triumphs.     Its  real  life 
was  in  the  times  of  Xavier  and  Aquaviva,  not  of  Escobar 
and  La  Chaise.    Any  dominant  faith  will  find  its  supporters 
among  those  whose  practical  lives  are  false  to  the  original 
principles.     Its  powers  of  renovation  depend  upon  its  ex 
alted  doctrines,  not  upon  the  numbers  who  profess  it,  be 
cause,  when  dominant,  men  are  drawn  to  it  by  ambition  or 
interest.     They  degrade   it  more  than  it  elevates   them. 
Hence  it  would  almost  seem  that  Christianity,  in 
this  dispensation,  is  designed  to  call  out  witnesses 
of  its  truths,   in  every  land,   the  elect  of  God, 
rather  than  to  be  a  universally  renovative  power  on  hu- 


564    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

man  institutions.     But  if  it  is  destined  to  be  all-conquering, 
bringing  government  and  science  and  social  life  in  harmony 
with  its  spirit,  as  most  people  believe,  and  perhaps  with  the 
greatest  evidence  on  their  side,  still  its  real  conquests  must 
be  slow,  without  supernatural  aid.     It  will  spread,  from  its 
inherent  life  and  power ;  it  will  become  corrupted,  and  fail 
to  exert  as  great  a  spiritual  influence  as  was  hoped ;  it  will 
be  reformed,  after  great  debasements,  when  it  is  scarcely 
more  than  a  nominal  faith,  except  among  the  few  witnesses ; 
and  the  reforming  party  or  sect  will  gain  ascendency,  and 
in  its  turn  become  degenerate  and  powerless  as  a  renovat 
ing  force.     So  history  seems  to  indicate,  from  the  times  of 
Theodosius  to  our  own,  specially  illustrated  by  the  estab 
lishment  of  the  different  monastic  orders,  the  great  awaken 
ings  under  Luther  and  Calvin  and  Knox,  the  successes  of 
Jesuits  and  Jansenists,  the  triumphs  of  the  Puritans,  the 
Quakers,  and  the  Methodists,  the  rise  of  Puseyism,  or  the 
Church  of  England.     That  Christianity  remains  vital   in 
the  world,  and  makes  true  advances  from  generation  to 
generation,   can    scarcely  be   questioned.     But   these   ad 
vances  are  slow  and  delusive.     Spiritual  power  will  pass 
away  as  the  conquering  party  gains  adherents  from  the 
world  of  fashion  and  of  rank.     It  will  not  become  extinct, 
but  the  difference  between   its  true  influence,  when  it  is 
persecuted  and  when  it  is  triumphant,  is  less  than  generally 
supposed.     The  spiritual  cannot  be  measured  by  the  ma 
terial.     Who  can  tell  wherein  true  and  permanent  influ 
ence  abides  ?     Who  can   estimate  the  power  of  spiritual 
agencies  ?     It  is  common  to  speak  of  enlarged  spheres  of 
usefulness ;  but  a  clergyman  in  a  humble  parish  may  set  in 
motion   ideas  which  will  have   more  effect  on  the  age  in 
which   he   lives,   and  on  succeeding  times,   than   by  any 
splendid  position  in  a  large  and  populous  city.     God  seeth 
not  as  man  seeth.     To  fill  the  sphere  which  Providence 
appoints  is  the  true  wisdom  ;  to  discharge  trusts  faithfully 
and  live  exalted  ideas,  that  is  the  mission  of  good  men. 


CHAP,  xui.]  Reasons  of  the  Failure.  565 

Christianity,  then,  in  the  fourth  century  was  not  more  of 
a  renovating  power  in  consequence  of  its  rapid  ex-  Reasons  why 
tension  and  vast  external  influence.  It  was  never  didnot««& 
more  sublime  than  when  it  made  martyrs  and  * 
heroes  of  the  few  who  dared  to  embrace  its  doctrines. 
There  was  more  hope  of  its  regenerating  the  world  when 
it  was  a  continually  expanding  circle  of  devout  believers, 
uncompromising  and  aggressive,  than  when  it  numbered 
the  wise  and  noble  and  Vighty,  with  their  old  vices  and 
follies.  Its  external  triumphs  rather  diminished  its  spiritual 

power. 

If  Christianity  failed  as  a  gorgeous  ritualism,  armed  with 
the  weapons  of  the  state,  and  allied  with  pagan  philosophy, 
attractive  as  it  was  made  to  different  classes,  where  is  the 
hope  of  the  renovation  of  this  world  from  the  effects  of 
climate,  soil,  material  wealth,  and  the  other  boasts  of  physi 
cal  improvements  and  culture  ?  What  a  poor  basis  for  the 
hopes  of  man  to  rest  upon  is  furnished  by  such  guides  as 
the  Comtes,  the  Buckles,  and  the  Mills  ?  If  a  fashionable 
and  popular  religion  could  not  save,  how  can  a  cold  mate 
rialism  which  chains  the  thoughts  to  sense,  and  confines 
aspirations  to  worldly  success. 

Christianity,  as  it  would  seem,  did  not  avert  the  ruin  of 
the  empire,  because,  when  pure,  it  had  but  little  influence 
outside  its  circle  of  esoteric  believers,  while  society  was 
rotten  to  the  core,  and  was  rapidly  approaching  a  natural 
dissolution.  When  it  was  dominant  it  failed,  because  it 
was  itself  corrupted,  and  the  ruin  had  begun.  The  barba 
rians  were  advancing  to  desolate  and  destroy,  were  routing 
armies  and  sacking  cities  and  enslaving  citizens,  when  the 
great  fathers  of  the  church  were  laying  the  foundation  of  a 
Christian  state.  The  ruin  of  the  empire  was  threatening 
when  Christianity  was  a  proscribed  and  persecuted  faith  ;  it 
was  inevitable  when  it  was  grasping  the  sceptre  of  princes. 
Moreover,  we  take  a  low  and  material  view  of  Chris 
tianity  when  we  wonder  why  it  did  not  save  the  empire. 


566    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

It  was  sent  to  save  the  world,  not  the  institutions  of  an 
True  mission  egotistical  people.  Why  should  we  grieve  that  it 

of  the  _  ..     ,  „ 

church.  failed  to  perpetuate  such  an  organization  or  gov 
ernment  as  that  wielded  by  the  emperors?  What  was  a 
central  and  proud  despotism,  with  vast  military  machinery, 
and  accompanying  aristocracies  and  inequalities,  and  the 
accumulated  treasure  of  all  ages  and  nations  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber,  compared  with  a  state  more  favorable  for  the 
development  of  a  new  civilization  ?  What  does  humanity 
care  for  the  perpetuation  of  Roman  pride  ?  Providence 
attaches  but  little  value  to  human  sorrows  and  sacrifices, 
to  the  melting  away  of  delusions,  pomps,  vanities,  and 
follies,  compared  with  the  spread  of  those  indestructible 
ideas  on  which  are  based  the  real  happiness  of  man.  If 
the  empire  had  withstood  the  shock  of  barbarians,  a  state 
would  have  existed  unfavorable  to  the  higher  and  future 
triumphs  of  the  cross.  Where  was  hope,  when  imperial 
despotism,  and  disproportionate  fortunes,  and  slavery,  and 
the  reign  of  conventional  forms  and  traditions,  and  the 
tyranny  of  foolish  fashions  were  likely  to  be  perpetuated  ? 
How  could  Christianity  have  subverted  these  monstrous 
evils  without  producing  revolutions  more  blasting  than 
even  barbaric  violence  ?  There  seem  to  be  some  evils  so 
subtle,  poisonous,  and  deeply-rooted  that  nothing  but  vio 
lence  can  remove  them.  How  long  before  slavery  would 
have  been  destroyed  in  the  United  States  by  any  moral 
means  ?  How  could  slavery  be  destroyed  when  the  most 
eloquent  of  Christian  teachers  were  its  defenders,  and  all 
its  kindred  institutions  were  upheld  by  the  church  ?  So 
of  slavery  in  the  Roman  Empire.  There  were  sixty  mill 
ions  of  slaves,  not  of  the  posterity  of  Ham,  but  of  Shem 
and  Japhet.  Every  prosperous  person  was  eager  to  possess 
a  slave,  nor  had  Christianity  openly  and  signally  rebuked 
such  a  gigantic  institution.  Where  was  the  hope  of  the 
abolition  of  such  an  evil  when  Christianity  adapted  itself 
to  prevailing  fashions  and  opinions,  and  only  thought  of 


CHAP,  xili.]  Mission  of  the   Church.  5G7 

alleviating  some  of  its  worst  forms  ?  Would  slaves  de 
crease  when  worldly  men  became  the  overseers  of  the 
church,  and  emperors  presided  at  councils  ?  Where  were 
the  hopes  of  its  abolition  when  the  whole  world  was  its 
theatre,  and  every  rich  man  its  defender  ;  where,  instead 
of  four  millions,  there  were  sixty  millions,  and  where  the 
general  level  of  morality  and  intelligence  was  lower  than 
it  is  at  present  ?  So  of  disproportionate  fortunes.  They 
were  a  hopeless  evil.  If  aristocratic  institutions  keep  their 
ground  in  the  best  country  of  Europe,  what  must  have 
been  the  grasp  of  nobles  in  the  Roman  world  ?  Abandon 
ment  to  money-making  was  another  social  evil.  If  we  in 
America  cannot  weaken  its  power,  even  in  the  most  Chris 
tian  communities ;  if  we  cannot  prevent  the  tyranny  of 
money  in  our  very  churches,  where  we  are  reminded 
every  Sunday  that  it  is  the  root  of  all  evil,  yea,  when  we 
have  Bibles  in  our  hands,  —  what  could  a  corrupted  Chris 
tianity  do  with  it  when  material  pleasures  were  more 
prized  than  they  are  with  us,  and  when  philanthropic  in 
stitutions  were  unborn  ?  If  the  whole  power  of  the  Galli- 
can  Church  was  exerted  to  prop  up  the  feudal  privileges 
of  the  French  noblesse,  and  there  was  needed  a  dreadful 
and  bloody  revolution  to  destroy  them,  much  more  was  a 
revolution  needed  at  Rome  to  destroy  the  inherited  powers 
of  a  still  prouder  and  more  powerful  aristocracy.  If  the 
rights  of  women  are  so  slowly  recognized  among  the  de 
scendants  of  chivalrous  nations,  with  all  the  moral  forces 
of  the  Gospel,  how  hopeless  the  elevation  of  women  among 
peoples  where  woman  for  thousands  of  years  was  regarded 
as  a  victim,  a  toy,  or  a  slave  ?  When  we  remember  the 
inherited  opinions  of  Orientals,  Greeks,  and  Romans  as  to 
the  condition  and  duties  and  relations  of  the  female  sex.  it 
seems  as  if  no  ordinary  instruction  could  have  broken  the 
fetters  of  woman  for  an  indefinite  period.  The  institutions 
of  the  pagan  world  were  too  firmly  rooted  to  afford  hope 
to  Christian  teachers,  if  ever  so  enlightened.  The  great 


568    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xni. 

cardinal  principle  of  the  common  brotherhood  of  man  could 
only  be  applied  under  more  favorable  circumstances.  The 
unity  of  the  empire  did  facilitate  the  outward  triumphs  and 
spread  of  Christianity,  and  perhaps  that  was  the  great 
mission  which  the  Roman  empire  was  designed  by  God  to 
promote.  But  the  social  and  political  institutions  of  the 
Romans  were  exceedingly  adverse  to  a  healthy  develop 
ment  of  Christian  virtue.  The  teachers  of  the  new  religion 
originally  aimed  entirely  at  the  salvation  of  the  soul.  It 
was  to  save  men  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  publish 
tidings  of  great  joy  to  the  miserable  populace  of  the  ancient 
world,  that  apostles  labored.  They  did  not  attack  political 
or  great  organized  systems  of  corruption  openly  and  di 
rectly.  It  was  enough  to  promise  Heaven,  not  to  change 
the  structure  of  society.  For  four  centuries  neither  the 
condition  of  woman  nor  of  the  slave  was  radically  improved. 
Christianity  could  not,  without  miraculous  power,  bear  its 
best  fruit  on  a  Roman  soil.  It  could  not  do  its  best  work 
on  degenerate  and  worn-out  races.  How  many  centuries 
would  it  take  for  Christianity,  even  if  embraced  by  all  the 
people  of  Japan  or  China,  to  make  as  noble  Christians  as 
in  Scotland  or  New  England  ?  There  must  be  a  material 
The  fan  of  to  work  upon.  There  was  not  this  material  in 

the  empire  a  .  *      i  i  /»    i  i       • 

necessity.  the  Roman  empire.  A  dreadful  revolution  was 
necessary,  in  which  new  and  uncorrupted  races  should  ob 
tain  ascendency,  and  on  whom  Christianity  could  work 
with  renewed  power.  In  such  a  catastrophe,  the  good 
must  suffer  with  the  evil,  the  just  with  the  unjust.  A 
Gothic  soldier  would  not  spare  a  cloister  any  sooner  than  a 
palace,  or  a  palace  sooner  than  a  hut,  a  philosopher  more 
readily  than  a  peasant.  Christians  as  well  as  pagans  must 
drink  the  bitter  cup,  for  natural  law  has  no  tears  to  shed 
and  no  indulgence  to  give.  The  iniquities  of  the  fathers 
were  visited  upon  the  children,  even  to  the  third  and  fourth 
generation.  And  what  if  there  was  suffering  on  the  earth  ? 
Tribulation  is  generally  a  blessing  in  disguise.  Men  are 


CHAP.  XIII.]  The  New   Creation.  569 

not  born  for  undisturbed  happiness  on  earth,  but  for  a  prep 
aration  for  heaven.  Whatever  calls  the  thoughts  from  a 
lower  to  a  higher  good  is  the  greatest  boon  which  Provi 
dence  gives.  The  monstrous  calamities  of  the  fourth  and 
fifth  centuries  had  a  marked  influence  in  opening  the  por 
tals  of  the  church,  even  for  the  barbarians  themselves  — 
for  they  were  not  converted  until  they  became  conquerors. 
A  new  life,  in  spite  of  calamities,  was  infused  into  the 
empire,  tottering  and  falling.  It  was  among  the  new  races 
that  the  new  creation  began,  and  it  is  among  their  de 
scendants  that  the  loftiest  triumphs  of  civilization  have 
been  achieved.  So  it  was  ultimately  a  good  thing  for  the 
world  that  the  empire  and  all  its  bad  institutions  were 
swept  away.  Creation  followed  destruction,  and  The  creation 

"~ 


the    death-song   was  succeeded  by  a   melodious  7 
birth-song.     All  suffering  and  sorrow  were  over 
ruled.     Future  ages  were  the  better  for  such  sad  calami 
ties.     Temples  were  destroyed,  but  the  sublime  ideas  of 
beauty  and  grace  by  which  they  were  erected  still  survive. 
Armies  were  annihilated,  but  military  science  was  not  lost. 
Libraries  were  burned,  but  models  of  ancient  style  sur 
vived  to  incite  to  new  creation.     Anarchy  prevailed,  but 
new  states  arose  on  the  ruins  of  the  old  provinces.     Men 
passed  away,  but  not  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  nor  the  relics 
of  genius.     The   new  races   gave    a  new  impulse,  when 
fairly  established,  to  agriculture,  to  commerce,  and  to  art, 
The"  fall  of  the  empire  was  the  destruction  of  fortunes  and 
of  farms,  the  change  of  masters,  the  dissolution  of  the  cen 
tral  power  of  emperors,  the  breaking  up  of  proconsular 
authority,  the  dissipation  of  conventionalities  and  fashions  ; 
but  these  were  not  the  ruin  of  human  hopes  or  the  bondage 
of  human  energies.     Genius,  poetry,  faith,  sentiment,  and 
piety,  remained.     Nor  was  the  earth  depopulated  ;  it  was 
decimated.     All  the  substantial  elements  of  greatness  were 
moulded  into  new  forms.     A  fresh  and  beautiful  life  arose 
among  the  simple  and  earnest  people  who  had  descended 


570    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  XIIL 

from  the  Oder  and  the  Vistula.  Entirely  new  institutions 
were  formed.  The  old  fabric  was  shattered  to  pieces,  but 
of  the  ruins  a  new  edifice  was  constructed  more  calculated 
to  shelter  the  distressed  and  miserable.  The  barbarians 
seized  the  old  traditions  of  the  church  and  invested  them 
with  poetical  beauty.  The  Teutonic  civilization,  more 
Christian  than  the  Roman,  surpassed  it  in  all  popular  forms, 
and  became  more  adapted  to  the  wants  of  man.  Probably 
whatis truly  nothing  really  great  in  civilization  has  ever  per- 
nele^pw-  ished,  or  ever  will  perish.  I  don't  believe  in 
ish68'  "  lost  arts."  They  are  only  buried  for  a  time, 

like  the  glorious  sculptures  of  Praxiteles  or  Lysippus,  amid 
the  debris  of  useless  fabrics,  to  be  dug  up  when  wanted 
and  valued,  as  models  of  new  creations.  I  doubt  if  any 
thing  really  valuable  in  even  the  Egyptian,  or  Assyrian,  or 
Indian  civilization  has  hopelessly  passed  away,  which  can 
be  made  of  real  service  to  mankind.  It  is,  indeed,  a  puzzle 
how  the  capstones  of  the  Pyramids  were  elevated  —  such 
huge  blocks  raised  five  hundred  feet  into  the  air;  but  I 
believe  the  mechanical  forces  are  really  known,  or  will  be 
known,  at  the  proper  time,  and  will  be  again  employed,  if 
the  labor  is  worth  the  cost.  We  could  build  a  tower  of 
Babel  in  New  York,  or  a  temple  of  Carnac,  or  a  Colos 
seum,  and  would  build  it,  if  such  a  structure  were  needed 
or  we  could  afford  the  waste  of  time,  material,  and  labor. 
There  is  nothing  in  all  antiquity  so  grand  as  a  modern 
railroad,  or  the  Grreat  Eastern  steamship,  or  the  Erie  Canal. 
Nebuchadnezzar's  palace  would  not  compare  with  St.  Peter's 
Church  or  Versailles,  nor  his  hanging  gardens  with  the 
Croton  reservoirs.  Gibraltar  or  Ehrenbreitstein  is  more 
impregnable  than  the  walls  of  Babylon,  which  Cyrus  de 
spaired  to  scale  or  batter  down.  Every  succeeding  gen 
eration  inherits  the  riches  and  learning  of  the  past,  even  if 
Rome  and  Carthage  are  sacked,  and  the  library  of  Alexan 
dria  is  burned.  The  barbarians  destroyed  the  monuments  of 
former  greatness — temples,  palaces,  statues,  pictures,  libra- 


CHAP,  xin.]          Every  Age  has  a  Mission.  571 

ries,  schools,  languages,  and  laws.    These  they  did  not  restore, 
but  they  were  restored  by  their  descendants,  as  there  was 
need,  and  new  creations  added.     The  Parthenon   Reconstruc- 
reappears  in  the  Madeleine  ;  the  Golden  House  of  * 
Nero  in  the  Tuileries  and  the  Louvre  ;   Jupiter  of  Phidias 
in  the  Moses  of  Michael  Angelo  ;  the  Helen  of  Zeuxis  in 
the  Venus   of  Titian  ;  the   library  of  Alexandria   in    the 
Bibliotheque  Imperiale  ;  the  Academy  of  Plato  in  the  Uni 
versity  of  Oxford  ;  the  orations  of  Cicero  in  the  eloquence 
of  Burke  ;  the  Institutes  of  Justinian  in  the  Code  Napo 
leon.     In  addition,  we  have  cathedrals  whose  architectural 
effect  Vitruvius  could  not  have  conceived  ;  pictures  that 
Polygnotus  could  not  have  painted  ;  books  which  Aristotle 
could  not  have  imagined  ;  universities  before  which  Zeno 
would  have   stood  awestruck  ;  courts   of  law  that  would 
have    called    out    the    admiration  of  Paul   and  Papinian ; 
houses  which  Scaurus  would  have  envied  ;  carriages  that 
Nero  would  have  given  the  lives  of  ten  thousand  Christians 
to  possess  ;  carpets  that  Babylon  could  not  have  woven  ; 
dyes  surpassing  the  Tyrian   purple  ;    silks,   velvets,   glass 
mirrors,  sideboards,  fabrics  of  linen  and  cotton  and  wool, 
ships,    railroads,    watches,    telescopes,    compasses,    charts, 
printing-presses,   gunpowder,    fire-arms,    photographs,  en 
gravings,   bank-notes,    telegraphic    wires,    chemical   com 
pounds,  domestic  utensils,   mills,  steam-engines,  balloons, 
and  a  thousand  other  wonders  of  a  civilization  which  no 
ancient  race  attained.      We  have  lost  nothing  of  the  old 
trophies  of  genius,  and  have  gained  new  ones  for  future  civ 
ilization.     The  Romans,  if  left  in  possession  of  the  provinces 
they  had  conquered  for  two  thousand  years  longer,  would 
never,  probably,  have  made  our  modern  discoveries  and 
inventions.     They  would  have  been  more  like  the  modern 
inhabitants  of  China.     A  new   race  was  required  to  try 
new  experiments  and  achieve  new  triumphs.     The  Greeks 
and  Romans  did  their  share,  fulfilled  a  great  mission  for 
humanity,  but  they  could  not  monopolize  forever  the  hu 
man  race  itself. 


572    Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAT  xm. 

Every  great  nation  and  age  has  its  work  to  do  in  the 
Every  age  field  of  undeveloped  energies  ;  but  the  field  is 
liar^Sn.  inexhaustible  in  resources,  for  the  intellect  of 
man  is  boundless  in  its  reserved  powers.  No  limit  can  be 
assigned  to  the  future  triumphs  of  genius  and  strength. 
We  are  as  ignorant  of  some  future  wonders  as  the  last 
century  was  of  steam  and  telegraphic  wires.  Nor  can 
we  tell  what  will  next  arise.  The  wonders  of  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  would  have  astonished  Egyptians  and 
Assyrians.  The  Oriental  civilization  gave  place  to  the 
Hellenic  and  the  Roman ;  and  the  Hellenic  and  Roman 
gave  place  to  the  Teutonic.  So  the  races  and  the  ages 
move  on.  They  have  their  missions,  become  corrupt,  and 
pass  away.  But  the  breaking  up  of  their  institutions,  even 
by  violence,  when  no  longer  a  blessing  to  the  world,  and 
the  surrender  of  their  lands  and  riches  to  another  race,  not 
worn  out,  but  new,  fresh,  enthusiastic,  and  strong,  have 
resulted  in  permanent  good  to  mankind,  even  if  we  feel 
that  the  human  mind  never  soared  to  loftier  flights,  or  put 
forth  greater  and  more  astonishing  individual  energies  than 
in  that  old  and  ruined  world. 

How  far  Christianity  conserved  the  treasures  of  the  past 
HOW  far  we  cannot  tell.  No  one  can  doubt  the  influence 

Christianity         ,,    /~,     ....  .    .  ,  .  .    . 

conserved,  or  Christianity  in  reviving  letters,  in  giving  a 
stimulus  to  thought,  in  creating  a  noble  ambition  for  the 
good  of  society,  and  producing  that  moral  tone  which  fits 
the  soul  to  appreciate  what  is  truly  great.  It  was  the 
church  which  preserved  the  manuscripts  of  classical  ages  ; 
which  perpetuated  the  Latin  language  in  chants  and  lit 
anies  and  theological  essays  ;  which  gave  a  new  impulse  to 
agriculture  and  many  useful  arts  ;  which  preserved  the 
traditions  of  the  Roman  empire ;  which  made  use  of  the 
old  canons  of  law ;  which  gave  a  new  glory  to  architecture 
in  the  Gothic  vaults  of  medieval  cathedrals ;  which  en 
couraged  the  rising  universities  ;  which  gave  wisdom  to 
rulers  and  laws  to  social  life.  The  monasteries  and  con- 


CHAP,  xni.]  The  New  Creation.  573 

vents,  in  their  best  ages,  were  receptacles  of  arts,  bee 
hives  of  industry,  schools  of  learning,  asylums  for  the  mis 
erable,  retreats  for  sages,  hospitals  for  the  poor,  and  bul 
warks  of  civilization  which  rude  warriors  dared  not  assail. 
What  did  not  the  Christian  clergy  guard  and  perpetuate  ? 
That  the  Teutonic  nations  would  have  arisen  to  as  lofty 
a  platform  as  the  ancient  Greeks  or  Romans,  without 
Christianity,  is  probable  enough.  There  is  no  limit  to  the 
intellect  of  a  noble  race  until  corrupted.  Without  Chris 
tianity,  societv  might  still  have  possessed  our  modern  dis 
coveries,  since  the  Gothic  races  have  shown  a  distinguish 
ing  genius  in  mechanical  inventions.  I  apprehend  that 
Christianity  has  not  much  to  do  with  many  of  the  wonders 
of  our  present  day  ;  and  I  find  some  classes  of  men  who 
have  made  great  attainments  in  certain  channels  in  antag 
onism  to  Christianity.  I  question  whether  a  spiritual 
religion  has  given  an  impulse  to  steam  navigation,  or  rifled 
cannons,  or  electrical  machines,  or  astronomical  calcula 
tions,  or  geological  deductions.  It  has  not  created  scien 
tific  schools,  or  painters'  studios,  or  Lowell  mills,  or  Bir 
mingham  wares,  or  London  docks.  Material  glories  we 
share  with  the  ancients  ;  we  have  simply  improved  upon 
them.  In  some  things  they  are  our  superiors.  We  do 
not  see  the  superiority  of  modern  over  ancient  civilization 
in  material  wonders,  so  much  as  in  immaterial  ideas. 
What  is  really  greatest  and  noblest  in  our  civilization 
comes  from  Christian  truths.  Certainly,  what  is  most 
characteristic  is  the  fruit  of  spiritual  ideas,  such  as  pagan 
ism  never  taught  —  never  could  have  conceived;  such,  for 
instance,  as  pertains  to  social  changes,  to  popular  educa 
tion,  to  philanthropic  enterprise,  to  enlightened  legislation, 
to  the  elevation  of  the  poor  and  miserable,  to  the  breaking 
off  the  fetters  of  the  slave,  and  to  the  true  appreciation  of 
the  mission  of  woman.  Nor  was  the  Roman  empire  swept 
away  until  the  seeds  of  all  these  great  modern  improve 
ments,  which  raise  society,  were  planted  by  the  sainted 


574     Why  Christianity  did  not  arrest  the  Ruin.    [CHAP.  xm. 

i 

fathers  and  doctors  of  the  church.  They  worked  for  us, 
for  all  future  ages,  for  all  possible  civilizations,  as  well  as 
for  their  own  times.  They  are,  therefore,  immortal  bene 
factors  of  the  human  race,  since  they  were  the  first  to  de 
clare  great  renovating  ideas.  The  early  church  is  the 
real  architect  of  European  civilization.  She  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  noble  edifice  under  which  the  nations 
still  shelter  themselves  against  the  storms  of  life.  Chris 
tianity  not  only  rescued  a  part  of  the  population  of  the  Ro- 
The real tri-  man  empire  from  degradation  and  ruin;  it  not 

umphs  of  ii»t»  •  r>    •  1 

Christianity,  only  had  glorious  witnesses  or  its  transcendent 
power  and  beauty  in  every  land,  thus  triumphing  over 
human  infirmity  and  misery  as  no  other  religion  ever  did ; 
but  it  has  also  proved  itself  to  be  a  progressively  con 
quering  power  by  the  great  and  beneficent  ideas  which 
were  planted  in  the  minds  of  barbarians,  as  well  as  oriental 
Christians,  and  which  from  time  to  time  are  bearing  fruit 
in  every  land,  so  as  to  make  it  evident  to  any  but  a  per 
verted  intellect,  that  Christianity  is  the  source  of  what 
we  most  prize  in  civilization  itself,  and  that  without  it  the 
nations  can  only  reach  a  certain  level,  and  will  then,  from 
the  law  of  depravity,  decline  and  fall  like  Greece,  Asia 
Minor,  and  Rome.  If  we  had  no  Christianity,  we  should 
be  compelled,  so  far  as  history  teaches  us  lessons,  to  adopt 
the  theory  of  Buckle  and  his  school,  of  the  necessary  prog 
ress  and  decline  of  nations  —  the  moving  round,  like  sys 
tems  of  philosophy,  in  perpetual  circles.  But,  with  the 
indestructible  ideas  which  the  fathers  planted,  there  must 
be  a  perpetual  renovation  and  an  unending  progress,  until 
the  world  becomes  an  Eden. 

REFERENCES.  —  The  reader  is  directed  only  to  the  ordinary  histo 
ries  of  the  church.  The  great  facts  are  stated  by  all  the  historians, 
and  few  new  ones  have  been  brought  to  light.  Historians  differ 
merely  in  the  mode  of  presenting  their  subject.  The  ecclesiastical 
histories  are  generally  deficient  in  art,  and  hence  are  uninteresting. 
The  ablest  and  the  most  learned  of  modern  historians  is  doubtless 


CHAP,  xiii.]  References.  575 

Neander.  He  is  also  the  fullest  and  most  satisfactory ;  but  even  he  is 
unattractive.  Mosheim  is  dry  and  dull,  but  learned  in  facts.  Dr. 
Schaff  has  most  ably  presented  primitive  Christianity,  and  his  recent 
work  is  both  popular  and  valuable.  Milman  is  the  best  English  writer 
on  the  church,  and  he  is  the  most  readable  of  modern  historians. 
Tillemont  and  Dupin  are  very  full  and  very  learned.  But  a  truly 
immortal  history  of  the  church,  exhaustive  yet  artistic,  brilliant  as 
well  as  learned,  is  yet  to  be  written.  The  ancient  historians,  like 
Eusebius  and  Socrates  and  Zosimus,  are  very  meagre.  The  genius 
and  spirit  of  the  early  church  can  only  be  drawn  from  the  lives  and 
writings  of  the  fathers. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    LEGACY    OF    THE    EARLY    CHURCH    TO    FUTURE 
GENERATIONS. 

IT  is  my  object  in  this  chapter  to  show  the  great  Chris 
tian  ideas  which  the  fathers  promulgated,  and  which 
have  proved  of  so  great  influence  on  the  Middle  Ages 
and  our  own  civilization.  These  were  declared  before  the 
Roman  empire  fell  ;  and  if  they  did  not  arrest  ruin,  still 
alleviated  the  miseries  of  society,  and  laid  the  foundation 
of  all  that  is  most  ennobling  among  modern  nations.  The 
early  church  should  be  the  most  glorious  chapter  in  the 
history  of  humanity.  While  the  work  of  destruction  was 
going  on  in  every  part  of  the  world,  both  by  vice  and 
violence,  there  was  still  the  new  work  of  creation  proceed 
ing  with  it,  a  precious  savor  of  life  to  future  ages.  If 
there  is  any  thing  sublime,  it  is  the  power  of  renovating 
ideas  amid  universal  degeneracy.  They  are  seeds  of  truth, 
which  grow  and  ripen  into  grand  institutions.  These  did 
not  become  of  sufficient  importance  to  arrest  the  attention 
of  historians  until  they  were  cultivated  by  the  Germanic 
nations  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

It  could  be  shown  that  almost  everything  which  gives 
glory  to  Christian  civilization  had  its  origin  in  the  early 
church.  Few  are  aware  what  giants  and  heroes  were 
those  fathers  and  saints  whom  this  age  has  been  taught  to 
despise.  We  are  really  reaping  the  results  of  those  con 
flicts  —  conflicts  with  bigoted  Jewish  sects,  conflicts  with 
the  high  priests  of  paganism,  with  Greek  philosophers, 
with  Gnostic  Manichaean  illuminati ;  with  the  symbolists, 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Champions  and  Martyrs.  577 

soothsayers,  astrologers,  magicians,  which  mystic  super 
stition  conjured  up  among  degenerate  people.  And  not 
merely  their  conflicts  with  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the 
air  alone,  but  with  themselves,  with  their  own  fiery  pas 
sions,  and  with  tangible  outward  foes.  They  were  illustri 
ous  champions  and  martyrs  in  the  midst  of  a  great  Vanity 
Fair,  in  a  Nebuchadnezzar  fire  of  persecutions,  an  all-per 
vading  atmosphere  of  lies,  impurities,  and  abominations 
which  cried  to  heaven  for  vengeance.  They  solved  for 
us  and  for  all  future  generations  the  thousand  of  new 
questions  which  audacious  paganism  proposed  in  its  last 
struggles  ;  they  exposed  the  bubbles  which  charmed  that 
giddy  generation  of  egotists ;  they  eliminated  the  false 
hoods  which  vain-glorious  philosophers  had  inwrought  with 
revelation  ;  and  they  attested,  with  dying  agonies,  to  the 
truth  of  those  mysteries  which  gave  them  consolation  and 
hope  amid  the  terrors  of  a  dissolving  world.  They  ab 
sorbed  even  into  the  sphere  of  Christianity  all  that  was 
really  valuable  in  the  system  they  exploded,  whether  of 
philosophy  or  social  life,  and  transmitted  the  same  to  future 
a^es.  And  they  set  examples,  of  which  the  world  will 
never  lose  sight,  of  patience,  fortitude,  courage,  generosity, 
which  will  animate  all  martyrs  to  the  end  of  time.  And  if, 
in  view  of  their  great  perplexities,  of  circumstances  which 
they  could  not  control,  utter  degeneracy  and  approach 
ing*  barbarism,  they  lent  their  aid  to  some  institutions 
which  we  cannot  endorse,  certainly  when  corrupted,  like 
Manichaeism  and  ecclesiastical  domination,  let  us  remember 
that  these  were  adapted  to  their  times,  or  were  called  out 
by  pressing  exigencies.  And  further,  let  us  bear  in  mind 
that,  in  giving  their  endorsement,  they  could  not  predict 
the  abuse  of  principles  abstractly  good  and  wise,  like  pov 
erty,  and  obedience,  and  chastity,  and  devout  meditation, 
and  solitary  communion  with  God.  In  all  their  conduct 
and  opinions,  we  see,  nevertheless,  a  large-hearted  hu 
manity,  a  toleration  and  charity  for  human  infirmities,  and 


578  Legacy  of  the  Early  Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

a  beautiful  spirit  of  brotherly  love.  If  they  advocated 
definite  creeds  with  great  vehemence  and  earnestness, 
they  yet  soared  beyond  them,  and  gloried  in  the  general 
name  they  bore,  until  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  their 
religion  were  assailed. 

For  two  centuries,  however,  they  have  no  history  out 
of  the  records  of  martyrdom.  We  know  their  sufferings 
better  than  any  peculiar  ideas  which  they  advocated.  We 
have  testimony  to  their  blameless  lives,  to  their  irreproach 
able  morals,  to  their  good  citizenship,  and  to  their  Chris 
tian  graces,  rather  than  to  any  doctrines  which  stand  out 
as  especial  marks  for  discussion  or  conflict,  like  those  which 
agitated  the  councils  of  Nice  or  Ephesus.  But  if  we  were 
asked  what  was  the  first  principle  which  was  brought  out 
by  the  history  of  the  early  church,  we  should  say  it  was 
that  of  martyrdom.  Certainly  the  first  recorded  act  in  the 
history  of  Christianity  was  that  memorable  scene  on  Cal 
vary,  when  the  founder  of  our  religion  announced  the  ful 
fillment  of  the  covenant  made  with  Adam  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden.  And  as  the  deliverance  of  mankind  was  ef 
fected  by  that  great  sacrifice  for  sin,  so  the  earliest  devel 
opment  of  Christian  life  was  the  spirit  of  martyrdom.  The 
moral  grandeur  with  which  the  martyrs  met  reproach, 
isolation,  persecution,  suffering,  and  death,  not  merely 
robbed  the  grave  of  its  victory,  but  implanted  a  principle 
of  inestimable  power  among  all  future  heroes.  Martyr 
dom  kindled  an  heroic  spirit,  not  for  the  conquest  of  na 
tions,  but  for  the  conquest  of  the  soul,  and  the  resignation 
of  all  that  earth  can  give  in  attestation  of  grand  and  sav 
ing  truths.  We  have  a  few  examples  of  martyrs  in  pagan 
antiquity,  like  Socrates  and  Seneca,  who  met  death  with 
fortitude,  —  but  not  with  faith,  not  with  indestructible  joy 
that  this  mortal  was  about  to  put  on  immortality.  The 
Christian  martyrdoms  were  a  new  development  of  human 
ity.  They  taught  the  necessity  of  present  sacrifice  for 
future  glory,  and  more,  for  the  great  interests  of  truth  and 


CHAP,  xiv.]  TJie  Principle  of  Faith.  579 

virtue,  with  which  good  men  had  been  identified.  They 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  the  view  of  the  people, 
who  had  not  dared  to  speculate  on  their  future  condition. 
Their  martyrs  inspired  a  spirit  into  society  that  nothing 
could  withstand  ;  a  practical  belief  that  the  life  was  more 
than  meat ;  that  the  future  was  greater  than  the  present : 
and  this  surely  is  one  of  the  grand  fundamental  principles 
of  Christianity.  They  incited  to  a  spirit  of  fortitude  and 
courage  under  all  the  evils  of  life,  and  gave  dignity  to  men 
who  would  otherwise  have  been  insignificant.  The  ex 
ample  of  men  who  rejoiced  to  part  with  their  lives  for  the 
sake  of  their  religion,  became  to  the  world  the  most  im 
pressive  voice  which  it  yet  heard  of  the  insignificance  of 
this  life  when  compared  with  the  life  to  come.  "  What 
will  it  profit  a  man  to  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his 
own  soul  ?  "  became  thus  one  of  the  most  stupendous  in 
quiries  which  could  be  impressed  on  future  generations, 
and  affected  all  the  relations  of  society.  Martyrdom  was 
one  solution  of  this  mighty  question  which  introduced  a 
new  power  upon  the  earth,  for  we  cannot  conceive  of 
Christianity  as  an  all-conquering  influence,  except  as  it  un 
folds  a  new  and  superior  existence,  in  contrast  with  which 
the  present  is  worthless.  The  principle  of  martyrdom, 
setting  at  defiance  the  present,  led  to  unbounded  charity 
and  the  renunciation  of  worldly  possessions.  What  are 
they  really  worth  ?  Every  martyr  had  the  comparative 
worthlessness  of  wealth  and  honor  and  comfort  profoundly 
impressed  upon  his  mind,  in  view  of  the  greatness  of  the 
Infinite  and  the  importance  of  the  future. 

The  early  martyrdoms  thus  brought  out  with  immeasur 
able  force  the  principle  of  faith,  without  which  life  can 
have  no  object,  —  faith  in  future  destinies,  faith  in  the 
promises  of  God,  faith  in  the  power  of  the  Cross  to  subdue 
finally  all  forms  of  evil.  The  sacrifice  of  Christ  intro 
duced  into  the  world  sentiments  of  unbounded  love  and 
gratitude,  that  He,  the  most  perfect  type  of  humanity,  and 


580  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.          [CHAP.  XIV, 

the  Son  of  God  himself,  should  come  into  this  world  to 
bear  its  sins  upon  the  cross,  and  thus  give  a  heaven  which 
could  not  be  bought  by  expiatory  gifts.  It  was  love  which 
prompted  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus ;  and  love  produced 
love,  and  stimulated  thousands  to  bear  with  patience  the 
evils  under  which  they  would  have  sunk.  The  martyr 
doms  of  the  early  Christians  did  not  indeed  kindle  senti 
ments  of  gratitude ;  but  they  inspired  courage,  and  led 
to  immeasurable  forms  of  heroism.  The  timid  and  the 
shrinking  woman,  the  down-trodden  slave,  and  the  de 
spised  pauper,  all  at  once  became  serene,  lofty,  unconquer 
able,  since  they  knew  that  though  their  earthly  tabernacle 
would  be  destroyed,  they  had  a  dwelling  in  the  heavens 
free  from  all  future  toil  and  sorrow  and  reproach.  Mar 
tyrdoms  made  this  world  nothing  and  heaven  everything. 
They  proved  a  powerful  faith  in  the  ultimate  prevalence 
of  truth,  and  created  an  invincible  moral  heroism,  which 
excited  universal  admiration  ;  and  they  furnished  models 
and  examples  to  future  generations,  when  Christians  were 
subjected  to  bitter  trials. 

We  cannot  but  feel  that  martyrdom  is  one  of  the  most 
impressive  of  all  human  examples,  since  it  is  the  mark  of 
a  practical  belief  in  God  and  heaven.  And  while  we  rec 
ognize  it  as  among  the  most  interesting  among  spiritual 
triumphs,  we  are  persuaded  that  the  absence  of  its  spirit, 
or  its  decline,  is  usually  followed  by  a  low  state  of  society. 
Epicureanism  is  its  antagonistic  principle,  and  is  as  destruc 
tive  as  the  other  is  conservative.  The  moment  men  are 
unwilling  to  sacrifice  themselves  to  a  great  cause,  they  vir 
tually  say  that  temporal  and  worldly  interests  are  to  be 
preferred  to  the  spiritual  and  the  future.  The  language 
of  the  Epicurean  is  intensely  egotistic.  It  is  :  "  Soul,  take 
thine  ease  ;  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry ; "  to  which  God 
says,  "  Thou  fool."  Christianity  was  sent  to  destroy  this 
egotism,  which  undermined  the  strength  of  the  ancient 
world  ;  and  it  created  a  practical  belief  in  the  future,  and  a 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Testimony  of  the  Martyrs.  581 

faith  in  truth.  Without  this  faith,  society  has  ever  retro 
graded  ;  with  it  there  have  been  continual  reforms.  It  is 
an  important  element  of  progress,  and  a  mark  of  dignity 
and  moral  greatness. 

Shall  we  seek  a  connection  between  their  martyrdoms 
and  civilization  ?  They  bore  witness  to  a  religion  which 
is  the  source  of  all  true  progress  upon  earth  ;  they  attested 
to  its  divine  truth  amid  protracted  agonies ;  they  were 
illustrious  examples  for  all  ages  to  contemplate. 

Perhaps  the  most  powerful  effect  of  their  voluntary  sac 
rifice  was  to  secure  credence  to  the  mysteries  of  Chris 
tianity.  Socrates  died  for  his  own  opinions  ;  but  who  was 
ever  willing  to  die  for  the  opinions  of  Socrates  ?  But  in 
numerable  martyrs  exulted  in  the  privilege  of  dying  for  the 
doctrines  of  Him  whose  sacrifice  saved  the  world.  Nor  to 
these  had  death  its  customary  terrors,  since  they  were  assured 
of  a  glorious  immortality.  They  impressed  the  pagan  world 
with  a  profound  lesson  that  the  future  is  greater  than  the 
present ;  that  there  is  to  be  a  day  of  rewards  and  pun 
ishments.  Amid  all  the  miseries  and  desolations  of  society, 
it  was  a  great  thing  to  bear  witness  to  the  reality  of  future 
happiness  and  misery.  The  hope  of  immortality  must 
have  been  an  unspeakable  consolation  to  the  miserable 
sufferers  of  the  Roman  Empire.  It  gave  to  them  courage 
and  patience  and  fortitude.  It  inspired  them  with  hope 
and  peace.  Amid  the  ravages  of  disease,  and  the  incur 
sions  of  barbarians,  and  the  dissolution  of  society,  and  the 
approaching  eclipse  of  the  glory  of  man,  it  was  a  great  and 
holy  mystery  that  the  soul  should  survive  these  evils,  and 
that  eternal  bliss  should  be  the  reward  of  the  faithful. 
Nothing  else  could  have  reconciled  the  inhabitants  of  the 
decaying  empire  to  slavery,  war,  and  pillage.  There  was 
needed  some  powerful  support  to  the  mind  under  the  com 
plicated  calamities  of  the  times.  This  support  the  death 
and  exultation  of  the  martyrs  afforded.  It  was  written  on 
the  souls  of  the  suffering  millions  that  there  was  a  higher 


582  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

life,  a  glorious  future,  an  exceeding  great  reward.  It  was 
impossible  to  see  thousands  ready  to  die,  exulting  in  the 
privilege  of  martyrdom,  anticipating  with  confidence  their 
"crown,"  and  not  feel  that  immortality  was  a  certitude 
brought  to  light  by  the  Gospel.  And  the  example  of  the 
martyrs  kindled  all  the  best  emotions  of  the  soul  into  a 
hallowed  glow.  Their  death,  so  serene  and  beautiful, 
filled  the  spectators  with  love  and  admiration.  Their 
sufferings  brought  to  light  the  greatest  virtues,  and  diffused 
their  spirit  into  the  heart  of  all  who  saw  their  indestruc 
tible  joy.  Is  it  nothing,  in  such  an  age,  to  have  given  an 
impulse  to  the  most  exalted  sentiments  that  men  can  cher 
ish  ?  The  welfare  of  nations  is  based  on  the  indestructible 
certitudes  of  love,  friendship,  faith,  fortitude,  self-sacrifice. 
It  wras  not  Marathon  so  much  as  Thermopylae  which  im 
parted  vitality  to  Grecian  heroism,  and  made  that  memo 
rable  self-sacrifice  one  of  the  eternal  pillars  which  mark 
national  advancement.  So  the  sufferings  of  the  martyrs, 
for  the  sake  of  Christ,  warmed  the  dissolving  empire  with 
a  belief  in  Heaven,  and  prepared  it  to  encounter  the  most 
unparalleled  wretchedness  which  our  world  has  seen.  They 
gave  a  finishing  blow  to  Epicureanism  and  skeptical  cyni 
cism  ;  so  that  in  the  calamities  which  soon  after  happened, 
men  were  buoyed  with  hope  and  trust.  They  may  have 
hidden  themselves  in  caves  and  deserts,  they  may  have 
sought  monastic  retreats,  they  may  have  lost  faith  in 
man  and  all  mundane  glories,  they  may  have  c«  nsumed 
their  lives  in  meditation  and  solitude,  they  may  have  an 
ticipated  the  dissolution  of  all  things,  but  they  awaited  in 
faith  the  coming  of  their  Lord.  Prepared  for  any  issue  or 
any  calamity,  a  class  of  heroes  arose  to  show  the  moral 
greatness  of  the  passive  virtues,  and  the  triumphs  of  faith 
amid  the  wrecks  of  material  grandeur.  Were  not  such 
needed  at  the  close  of  the  fourth  century  ?  Especially 
were  not  such  bright  examples  needed  for  the  ages  which 
were  to  come  ?  Polycarp  and  Cyprian  were  the  precur- 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Christian  Benevolence.  583 

sors  of  the  martyrs  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  were  of  the 
Reformation.  Early  persecutions  developed  the  spirit  of 
martyrdom,  which  is  the  seed  of  the  church,  impressed  it 
upon  the  mind  of  the  world,  and  prepared  the  way  for  the 
moral  triumphs  of  the  Beckets  and  Savonarolas  of  remote 
generations.  Martyrdoms  were  the  first  impressive  facts 
in  the  history  of  the  church,  and  the  idea  of  dying  for  a 
faith  one  of  the  most  signal  evidences  of  superiority  over 
the  ancient  religions.  It  was  a  new  idea,  which  had 
utterly  escaped  the  old  guides  of  mankind. 

Anotiier  great  idea  which  was  promulgated  by  the 
church  long  before  the  empire  fell,  was  that  of  benevo 
lence.  Charities  were  not  one  of  the  fruits  of  paganism. 
Men  may  have  sold  their  goods  and  given  to  the  poor,  but 
we  have  no  record  of  such  deeds.  Hospitals  and  eleemosy 
nary  institutions  were  nearly  unknown.  When  a  man 
was  unfortunate,  there  was  nothing  left  to  him  but  to  suffer 
and  die.  There  was  no  help  from  others.  All  were  en 
grossed  in  their  schemes  of  pleasure  or  ambition,  and  com 
passion  was  rare.  The  sick  and  diseased  died  without 
alleviation.  "  The  spectator  who  gazed  upon  the  magnifi 
cent  buildings  which  covered  the  seven  hills,  temples, 
arches,  porticoes,  theatres,  baths  and  palaces,  could  dis 
cover  no  hospitals  and  asylums,  unless  perchance  the  tem 
ple  of  JEsculapius,  on  an  island  in  the  Tiber,  where  the 
maimed  and  sick  were  left  in  solitude  to  struggle  with 
the  pangs  of  death."  But  the  church  fed  the  hungry,  and 
clothed  the  naked,  and  visited  the  prisoner,  and  lodged  the 
stranger.  Charity  was  one  of  the  fundamental  injunctions 
of  Christ  and  of  the  Apostles.  The  New  Testament  breathes 
unbounded  love,  benevolence  so  extensive  and  universal 
that  self  was  ignored.  Self-denial,  in  doing  good  to  others, 
was  one  of  the  virtues  expected  of  every  Christian.  Hence 
the  first  followers  of  our  Lord  had  all  things  in  common. 
Property  was  supposed  to  belong  to  the  whole  church, 
rather  than  to  individuals.  "  Go  and  sell  all  that  thou 


584  Legacy  of  the  Early  Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

hast  "  was  literally  interpreted.     It  devolved  on  the  whole 
church  to  see   that  strangers  were   entertained,  that  the 
sick  were   nursed,  that  the   poor   were  fed,  that  orphans 
were  protected,  that  those  who  were  in  prison  were  visited. 
For    these    purposes   contributions   were    taken    up   in   all 
assemblies  convened  for  public  worship.     Individuals  also 
emulated  the  whole  church,  and  gave  away  their  posses 
sions  to  the  poor.      Matrons,  especially,  devoted  themselves 
to  these  works  of  charity,  feeding  the   poor,  and  visiting 
the  sick.     They  visited  the  meanest  hovels  and  the  most 
dismal    prisons.     But    "  what  heathen,"    says    Tertullian, 
"  will  suffer  his  wife  to  go  about  from  one  street  to  another 
to  the  houses  of  strangers  ?     What  heathen  would  allow 
her  to  steal  away  into  the  dungeon  to  kiss  the  chain  of  the 
martyr  ?  "     And  these  works  of  benevolence  were  not  be 
stowed  upon  friends  alone,  but  upon  strangers  ;  and  it  was 
this,  particularly,   which  struck   the   pagans   with   wonder 
and  admiration  —  that  men  of  different  countries,  ranks,  and 
relations  of  life,  were  bound  together  by  an  invisible  cord 
of  love.     A  stranger,  with  letters  to  the  "  brethren,"  was 
sure  of  a  generous  and  hearty  welcome.     There  were  no 
strangers  among  the  Christians  ;  they  were  all  brothers  ; 
they  called   each   other  brother  and   sister;  they  gave  to 
each  other  the  fraternal  kiss  ;  they  knew  of  no  distinctions  ; 
they  all  had  an  equal  claim  to  the  heritage  of  the  church. 
And  this  generosity  and  benevolence  extended  itself  to  the 
wants   of  Christians   in    distant    lands;   the    churches   re 
deemed  captives  taken  in  war,  and  even  sold  the  conse 
crated  vessels  for  that  purpose  on  rare  occasions,  as  Am 
brose  did  at  Milan.     A  single  bishop,  in  the  third  century, 
supported  two  thousand  poor  people.     Cyprian  raised  at 
one-time  a  sum  equal  to  four  thousand  dollars  in  his  church 
at  Carthage,  to  be  sent  to  the  Manichaean  bishops  for  the 
purposes  of  chanty.     Especially  in   times  of  public  calam 
ity  was  this  spirit  of  benevolence  manifested,  and  in  strik- 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Christian  Benevolence.  58i> 

ing  contrast   with    the   pagans.1     When   Alexandria  was 
visited  with  the  plague  during  the  reign  of  Gallienus,  the 
pagans  deserted  their  friends  upon  the  first  symptoms  of 
disease  ;  they  left  them  to  die  in  the  streets,  without  even 
taking  the  trouble  to  bury  them  when  dead  ;  they  only 
thought  of  escaping  from  the  contagion  themselves.     The 
Christians,  on  the  contrary,  took  the  bodies  of  their  breth 
ren  in  their  arms,  waited  upon  them  without  thinking  of 
themselves,   ministered   to  their   wants,  and   buried  them 
with  all  possible  care,  even  while  the  best  people  of  the 
community,  presbyters  and  deacons,  lost  their  own  lives  by 
their  self-sacrificing  generosity.2    And  when  Carthage  was 
ravaged  by  a  similar^pestilence  in  the  reign  of  Gallus,  the 
pagans  deserted   the  sick  and  the  dying,  and  the  streets 
were  filled  with  dead  bodies,  which  greatly  increased  the 
infection.     No  one  came  near  them  except  for  purposes  of 
plunder ;  but  Cyprian,  calling  his  people  together  in  the 
church,  said  :  "If  we  do  good  only  to  our  own,  what  do 
we  more  than  publicans  and  heathens."     Animated  by  his 
words,  the  members  of  the  church  divided   the  work  be 
tween  them,  the  rich  giving  money,  and  the  poor  labor,  so 
that  in  a  short  time  the  bodies  which  filled  the  streets  were 

buried. 

And  this  principle  of  benevolence  has  never  been  re 
linquished  by  the  church.  It  was  one  of  the  founda 
tion-pillars  of  monastic  life  in  the  Middle  Ages,  when 
monasteries  and  convents  were  blessed  retreats  for  the 
miserable  and  unfortunate,  where  all  strangers  found  a 
shelter  and  a  home  ;  where  they  diffused  charities  upon  all 
who  sought  their  aid.  The  monastery  itself  was  built  upon 
charities,  upon  the  gifts  and  legacies  of  the  pious.  In  pa 
gan  Rome  men  willed  away  their  fortunes  to  favorites  ; 
they  were  rarely  bestowed  upon  the  poor.  But  Christian 
ity' inculcated  everywhere  the  necessity  of  charities,  not 
merely  as  a  test  of  Christian  hope  and  faith,  but  as  one  of 

l  Neander,  vol.  i.  §  3.  2  E"sebilis'  L  vii"  chaP"  22' 


586  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

the  conditions  of  salvation  itself.  One  of  the  most  glori 
ous  features  of  our  modern  civilization  is  the  wide-spread 
system  of  public  benevolence  extended  to  missions,  to  des 
titute  churches,  to  hospitals,  to  colleges,  to  alms-houses,  to 
the  support  of  the  poor,  who  are  not  left  to  die  unheeded 
as  in  the  ancient  world.  Every  form  of  Christianity,  every 
sect  and  party,  has  its  peculiar  charities  ;  but  charities  for 
some  good  object  are  a  primal  principle  of  the  common 
creed.  What  immeasurable  blessings  have  been  bestowed 
upon  mankind  in  consequence  of  this  law  of  kindness  and 
love  !  What,  a  beautiful  feature  it  is  in  the  whole  progress 
of  civilization  ! 

The  early  church  had  set  a  good  example  of  patience 
under  persecution,  and  practical  benevolence  extended  into 
every  form  of  social  life  which  has  been  instituted  in  every 
succeeding  age,  and  to  which  the  healthy  condition  of 
society  may  in  a  measure  be  traced. 

The  next  mission  of  the  church  was  to  give  dignity  and 
importance  to  the  public  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  which 
has  never  since  been  lost  sight  of,  and  has  been  no  incon 
siderable  element  of  our  civilization.     This  was   entirely 
new  in  the  history  of  society.     The  pagan  priest  did  not 
exhort  the  people  to  morality,  or  point  out  their  religious 
duties,  or  remind  them  of  their  future  destinies,  or  expound 
the  great  principles  of  religious  faith.     He  offered  up  sac 
rifices  to  the  Deity,  and  appeared  in  imposing  ceremonials. 
He  wore  rich  and  gorgeous  dresses  to  dazzle  the  senses  of 
the  people,  or  excite  their  imaginations.     It  was  his  duty 
to  appeal  to  the  gods,  and  not  to  men  ;  to  propitiate  them 
with  costly  rites,  to  surround  himself  with  mystery,  to  in 
spire  awe,  and  excite  superstitious  feelings.     The  Christian 
minister  had  a  loftier  sphere.     While  he  appealed  to  God 
in  prayer,  and  approached  his  altar  with  becoming  solem 
nity,  it  was  also  his  duty  to  preach  to  the  people,  as  Paul 
and   the  Apostles   did   throughout    the    heathen   world,  in 
order  to   convert   them  to  Christianity,   and    change  the 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Public  Preaching.  587 

whole  character  of  their  lives  and  habits.  The  presbyter, 
while  he  baptized  believers  and  administered  the  symbolic 
bread  and  wine,  also  taught  the  people,  explained  to  them 
the  mysteries,  enforced  upon  them  the  obligations,  appealed 
to  their  intellects,  their  consciences,  and  their  hearts.  He 
plunged  fearlessly  into  every  subject  bearing  upon  religious 
life,  and  boldly  presented  it  for  contemplation. 

What  a  grand  theatre  for  the  development  of  mind,  for 
healthy  instruction  and  commanding  influence,  was  opened 
by  the  Christian  pulpit.     There  was  no  sphere  equal  to  it 
in   moral  dignity  and  force.     It  threw  into  the  shade  the 
theatre  and  theVorum.     And  in  times  when  printing  was 
unknown,  it  was  almost  the  only  way  by  which  the  people 
could   be   taught.     It  vastly  added   to   the   power  of  the 
clergy,  and  gave  them  an  influence  that  the  old  priests  of 
paganism  could  never  exercise.     It  created  an  entirely  new 
power  in   the  world,  a   moral   power,  indeed,  but  one  to 
which  history  presents  no  equal.     The  philosophers  taught 
in  their  schools,  they  taught  a   few  admiring  pupils  ;  but 
the   sphere  of  their   teachings   was   limited,  and   also   the 
number  whom  they  could  address.     The  pulpit  became  an 
institution.     All  the  Christians  were  required  to  assemble 
regularly  for  public  instruction   as  well  as  worship.     On 
every  seventh  day  the  people  laid  aside  their  secular  duties 
and  devoted  themselves  to  religious  improvement.     The 
pulpit  gave  power  to  the  Sabbath  ;  and  what  an  institution 
is  the  Christian  Sabbath.     To  the  Sabbath  and  to  public 
preaching  Christendom  owes  more  than  to  all  other  sources 
of  moraf  elevation  combined.     It  is  true  that  the  Jewish 
synagogue  furnished  a  model  to  the  church  ;  but  the  Levit- 
ical  race  claimed  no  peculiar  sanctity,  and  discharged  no 
friendly  office  beyond  the  precincts  of  the  temple.     In  the 
synagogue  the  people  assembled  to  pray,  or  to  hear  the 
Scriptures  read  and  expounded,  not  to  receive  religious  in 
struction.     The  Jewish  religion  was  as  full  of  ceremonials 
as  the  pagan,  and  the  intellectual  part  of  it  was  confined  to 


588  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  XIV. 

the  lawyers,  to  the  rabbinical  hierarchy.     But  the  preach 
ing  of  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity  was  made  a  pecu 
liarly  sacred  office,  and  given  to  a  class  of  men  who  avoided 
all  secular  pursuits.     The  Christian  priest  was  the  recog 
nized  head  of  the  society  which  he  taught  and  controlled. 
In  process  of  time,  he  became  a  great  dignitary,  control 
ling  various  interests  ;  but  his  first  mission  was  to  preach, 
and  his  first  theme  was  a  crucified  Saviour.     He  ascended 
the  pulpit  every  week  as  an  authorized  as  well  as  a  sacred 
teacher,  and,  in  the  illustration  of  his  subjects,  he  was  al 
lowed  great  latitude  in  which  to  roam.     It  is  not  easy  to 
appreciate  what  a  difference  there  was  between  pagan  and 
Christian  communities  from  the  rise  of  this  new  power, 
and  we  might  also  say  institution,  since  the  pulpit  and  the 
Sabbath  are  interlinked  and  associated  together.     What 
ever  the  world  has  gained  by  the  Sabbath,  that  gain  is  in 
tensified    and    increased    vastly    by    public    teaching.      It 
placed  the  Christian  as   far  beyond  the  Jew,  as  the  Jew 
was  before  beyond  the  pagan.     It  also  created  a  sacerdotal 
caste.     The  people  may  have  had  the  privilege  of  pouring 
out  their  hearts  before  the  brethren,  and  of  speaking  for 
their  edification,  but  all  the  members  were  not  fitted  for  the 
secular  office  of  teachers.      Christianity  claims  the  faculties 
of  knowledge,  as  well  as  those  of  feeling.     Teaching  was 
early  felt  to  be  a  great  gift,  implying  not  only  superior 
knowledge,  but  superior  wisdom  and  grace.     Only  a  few 
possessed  the  precious  charisma  to  address  profitably  the 
assembled   people,  x<W/*a  StSao-KaXuxs,  and   those  few  be 
came  the  appointed  guides  of  the  Christian  flocks,  818^*0X01'. 
Other  officers  of  the  new  communities  shared  with  them 
the  administration,  but  the  teacher  was  the  highest  officer, 
and   he  became  gradually   the  presbyter,  whose  peculiar 
function   it  was   to   discourse   to  the  people   on   the  great 
themes  which  it  was  their  duty  to  learn.     And  even  after 
the  presbyter  became   a  bishop,  it  was  his  chief  office  to 
teach  publicly,  even  as  late  as  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries. 


6^»n 
0**«* 
Pn^ 

CHAP.  XIV.]  Eloquence. 

Leo  and  Gregory,  the  great  bishops  of  Rome,  were  elo 
quent  preachers. 

Thus  the  church  gradually  claimed  the  great  preroga 
tive  of  eloquence.     Eloquence  was  not  born  in  the  church, 
but  it  was  sanctified,  and  set  apart,  and  appropriated  to  a 
thousand  new  purposes,  and  especially  identified  with  the 
public  teaching  of  the  people.     The  great  mysteries,  the 
profound  doctrines,  the  suggestive  truths,  the  touching  his 
tories,  the  practical  duties  of  Christianity  were  seized  and 
enforced  by  the  public  teacher;   and  eloquence  appeared 
in  the  sermon.     In  pagan  ages,  eloquence  was  confined  to 
the  forum  or  the  senate    chamber,  and  was   directed  en 
tirely   into    secular   channels.     It   was    always  highly  es 
teemed  as  the   birthright  of  genius  —  an  inspiration,  like 
poetry,  rather  than  an  art  to  be  acquired.     But  it  was  not 
always  the  handmaid  of  poetry  and  music  ;  it  was  brought 
down  to  earth  for  practical  purposes,  and  employed  chiefly 
in  defending  criminals,  or  procuring  the  passage  of  laws, 
or    stimulating   the   leaders   of   society  to   important   acts. 
The  mft  of  tono-ue  was  reserved  for  rhetoricians,  lawyers, 
politicians,  philosophers;  not  for  priests,  who  were  inter 
cessors   with    the  Divine.     Now   Christianity   adopted   all 
the   arts    of  eloquence,    and  enriched   them,  and  applied 
them  to  a  variety  of  new  subjects.     She  carried  away  in 
triumph  the  brightest  ornament  of  the  pagan  schools,  and 
placed    it    in    the    hands   of  her    chosen    ministers.     The 
pulpit  soon  began  to  rival  the  forum  in  the  displays  of  a 
heaven-born  art,  which  was  now  consecrated  to  for  loftier 
purposes   than   those  to  which  it  had    been   applied.     As 
public  instruction  became  more  and  more  learned,  it  also 
became   more   and  more  eloquent,   for  the   preacher  had 
opportunity,   subject,   audience,   motive,  all   of  which   are 
required    for    great    perfection    in    public    speaking, 
assembled  a  living   congregation   at  stated   intervals  ;    he 
had  the  range  of  all  those  lofty  inquiries  which  entrance 
the  soul ;  and  he  had  souls  to  save  -  the  greatest  conceiv- 


590 


Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.        [CHAP.  xiv. 

able  motive  to  a  good  man  who  realizes  the  truths  of  the 
ospel.     AH  human  enterprises  and  schemes  become  ulti- 
mately  ms.pid  to  a  man  who  has  no  lofty  view  of  benefit 
ing  mankmd,  or  his  family,  or  his  friend.      We  were  made 
to  do  good.     Take  away  this  stimulus,  and  energy-  itself 
)angu,shes  and  droops.     There  is   no  object  in  life  to  a 
seeker  of  pleasure  or  gain,  when  once  the  passion  is  grati 
fied.     What  object  of  pity  so  melancholy  as  a  man  worn 
:  with  egotistical  excitements,  and  incapable  of  beincr 
amused.     But  he   who  labors  for  the  good   of  others  £ 
never  ennuied.     The  benevolent  physician,   the  patriotic 
tesman,  the  conscientious  lawyer,  the  enthusiastic  teach- 
er,  the  dreaming  author,  all  work  and  toil  in  weary  labors 
with  the  hope  of  being  useful  to  the  bodies,  or  the  intel 
lects,  or  the  minds  of  the  people.     This  is  the  great  con 
dition  of  happiness.     There  is  an  excitement  in  gambling 
as  in  pleasure,  in   money-making  as  in  money-spending 
but  ,t  wears  out,  or  exhausts  the  noble  faculties,  and  ends 
•n  ennu,  or  self-reproach  and  bitter  disappointment.     It  is 
ot  the  condition   of  our  nature,  which  was  made  to  be 
nseful,  to  seek  the  good  of  others.     They  are  the  happiest 
and  most  esteemed  who  haye  ^  ^  ^  ^  PP* 

There  can  be  no  unhappiness  to  a  man  absorbed  in  doin^ 

He  may  be  poor  and  persecuted  like  Socrates;  he 

may  walk   barefooted,   and   have  domestic  griefs,  and  be 

depnved  of  his  comforts -but  he  is  sere™,  for  the  soul 

numphs  over  the  body.     Now,  what  motive  so  grand  a 
to  save  (J,e  immortal  part  of  man.     This  desire  filled  the 

anc,en    Chnst.an  orator  with  a  preternatural  enthusiasm, 
well  as  gav    to  hlm  an  un]im.ted  power)  and  an 

ng  d.gn.ty.  He  was  the  most  happy  of  mortals  when  led 
>  blazing  fire  of  his  persecutors,  and  he  was  the  most 
august.  The  feehng  that  he  was  kindling  a  fire  which 
should  never  be  quenched,  even  that  which  was  to  burn  up 
a  the  wicked  ,dols  of  an  idolatrous  generation,  unloosed 
hi.  tongue  and  an.mated  his  features.  The  most  striking 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Oratory  in  the   Church. 

examples  of  seraphic  joy,  of  a  sort  of  divine  beauty  play 
ing   upon   the  features,  are   among  orators.     In  animated 
conversation,  a  person  ordinarily  homely,  like  Madame  de 
Stael,  becomes  beautiful  and  impressive.     But  in  the  pul 
pit,  when  the  sacred  orator  is  moving  a  congregation  with 
the  fears  and  hopes  of  another  world,  there  is  a  majesty  in 
his  beauty  which  is  nowhere  else  so  fully  seen.     There  is 
no  eloquence  like  that  of  the  pulpit,  when  the  preacher  is 
gifted  and  in  earnest.     Greece  had  her  Pericles  and  De 
mosthenes,  and  Rome  her  Hortensius  and  Cicero.     Many 
other  great  orators  we  could  mention.     But  when  Greece 
and  Rome  had  an   intellectual   existence   such  as  that  to 
which  our  modern  times  furnish  no  parallel,  in  our  absorb 
ing  pursuit  of  pleasure  and  gain,  and  amid  the  wealth  of 
mechanical  inventions,  there  were,  even    in  those  classic 
lands,  but  few  orators  whose  names  have  descended  to  our 
times;  while,    in    the  church,    in    a    degenerated   period, 
when  literature   and   science    were  nearly    extinct,  there 
were   a    greater   number  of  Christian   orators  than   what 
classic  antiquity  furnished.     Yea,  in  those  dark  and  miser 
able  ages  which  succeeded  the  fall  of  the  Roman  empire, 
there  were   in   every  land  remarkable  pulpit  orators,  like 
those  who  fanned  the  Crusades.     There  was  no  eloquence 
in  the  Middle  Ages  outside   the   church.     Bernard  exer 
cised  a  far  greater  moral  power  than  Cicero  in  the  fullness 
of  his  fame.     And  in  our  modern  times,  what  orators  have 
arisen  like  those  whom  the  Reformation  produced,  both  in 
the   Roman   Catholic    church,   and   among   the  numerous 
sects  which  protested  against  her?     What  orator  has  Ger 
many  ^iven  birth  to  equal  in  fame  to  Luther  ?     What  ora 
tor  in" France   has  reached  the  celebrity  of  Bossuet,   or 
Bourdaloue,    or   Massillon  ?     Even    amid   all  the   excite 
ments  attending  the  change  of  government,  who  have  had 
power  on  the  people  like  a  Lacordaire  or  Monod  ?      In 
England,  the  great  orators  have  been   preachers,  with  a 
very  few  exceptions ;  and  these  men  would  have  been  still 


592 


Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

greater   in    the   arts   of  public   speaking   had    they  been 
touted  ,n  the  church.     In  our  day,  we  have  seen  great 
orators  in  secular  life,  but  they  yield  in  fascination  either 
to  those  who  are   accustomed    to  speak  from   the  sacred 
sk,  or  to   those   whose   training  has  been  clerical,  like 
many   of   our   popular   lecturers.     Nothing   ever   opened 
such  an  arena  of  eloquence  as  the  preaching  of  the  Gos 
pel,   either  ,„  the  ancient,  the  medieval,  or  the  modern 
work,  not  merely  from   the  grandeur  and  importance  of 
e  themes  discussed,  but  also  from  the  number  of  the 
speakers.     In  a  legislative  assembly,   where  all  are   sup 
posed  to  be  able   to  address  an   audience,  and  some  are 
expected  to  be  eloquent,  only  two  or  three  can  be  heard 
in  a  day.     Only  some  twenty  or  thirty  able  speeches  are 
deluded  ,„  Congress  or  Parliament  in  a  whole  session: 
but  m  England,  or  the  United  States,  some  thirty  thou 
sand  preachers  are  speaking  at  the  same  time,  many  of 
whom  are  far  more  gifted,  learned,  and  brilliant  than  any 
found  in  the  great  councils  of  the  nation.     Nor  is  this  elo 
quence  confined  to  the  Protestant  church  ;  it  exists  also  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  in  every  land.     There  are  no  more 
earnest  and  inspiring  orators  than  in  Italy  or  France    Even 
m  rude  and  unlettered  and  remote  districts,  we  often  hear 
specimens  of  eloquence  which  would  be  wonderful  in  capi- 
tals      What  chance  has  the  bar,  in  a  large  city,  compared 
with  the  pulpit,  for  the  display  of  eloquence?     Probably 
there  are  more  eloquent  addresses  delivered  every  Sunday 
from  the  various  pulpits  of  Christendom   than  were  pro 
nounced  by  all   the  orators  of  Greece,  during  the  whole 
penod   of   her   political    existence.     Doubtless    there   are 
more  touching  and  effective  appeals  made  to  the  popular 
leart  every  Sunday  in    every   Christian    land,   than   are 
made  durmg  the  whole  year   beside  on  subjects  essentially 
ecular.     Then  what  an  impulse  has  pulpit  oratory  o-iven 
>   objects    of  a    strictly    philanthropic    character  !  "The 
church  has  been  the  nurse  and  mother  of  all  schemes  of 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Christian  Oratory.  593 

benevolence  since  it  was  organized.     It  is  itself  a  great 
philanthropic  institution,  binding  up   the  wounds   of  the 
prisoner,  relieving  the   distressed,   and    stimulating   great 
enterprises.     For  all  of  this  the    pulpit  has  been  called 
upon,  and   has  lent  its  aid  ;    so  that  the  world  has  been 
more  indebted  to  the  eloquence  of  divines  than  to  any  other 
source.     Who  can  calculate  the  moral  force  of  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  thousand  to  two  hundred  thousand  Christian 
preachers  in  a  world  like  ours,  most  of  whom  are  arrayed 
on  the  side  of  morality  and  learning.     It  may  be  said  that 
these  benefits  may  more  properly  be  considered  to  flow 
from  Christianity  as  revealed  in  the  Bible  ;  that  the  Bible 
is  the  cause  of  all  this  great  impulse  to  civilization.     We 
do  not  object  to  such  an  interpretation  ;    nevertheless,  m 
specifying  the  influence   of  the  church,   even   before  the 
empire    fell,  the  creation   of  pulpit  eloquence  should   be 
mentioned,  since  this  has  contributed  so  much  to  the  moral 
elevation  of  Christendom.     Christianity  would    be  shorn 
of  half  her  triumphs  were  it  not  for  the  public  preaching 
of  her  truths.     Paganism  had  no  public  teachers  who  reg 
ularly    taught   the    people    and    stimulated    their   noblest 
energies.     It   was  a    new  institution,    these   Sabbath-day 
exercises,  and  has  had  an  inconceivable  influence  on  the 
progress  and  condition    of  the  race.     The  power   of  the 
Gospel  was  indeed  the  main  and  primary  cause  ;  but  the 
church   must  have  the  credit  of  appropriating  what  was 
most  prized  in   the  intellectual   centres  of  antiquity,  and 
crivino-  to  it  a  new  direction.     Christian  oratory  is  also  an 
interesting  subject  to  present  in  merely  its  artistical  rela 
tions.     Its  vast  influence  no  one  can  question. 

Again,  who  can  estimate  the  debt  which  civilization,  in 
its  largest  and  most  comprehensive  sense,  owes  to  the 
fathers  of  the  early  church,  in  the  elaboration  of  Christian 
doctrine.  They  found  the  heathen  world  enslaved  by  a 
certain  class  of  most  degrading  notions  of  God,  of  deity,  of 
goodness,  of  the  future,  of  rewards  and  punishments.  In- 


594  Legacy  of  the  Early  Church.        [CHAP.  xiv. 

deed,  its  opinions  were  wrong  and  demoralizing  in  almost 
every  point  pertaining  to  the  spiritual  relations  of  man. 
They  met  the  wants  of  their  times  by  seizing  on  the  great 
radical  principles  of  Christianity,  which  most  directly  op 
posed  these  demoralizing  ideas,  and  by  giving  them  the 
prominence  which  was  needed.  Moreover,  in  the  church 
itself,  opinions  were  from  time  to  time  broached,  so  inti 
mately  allied  with  pagan  philosophies  and  oriental  theog- 
onies,  that  the  faith  of  Christians  was  in  danger  of  being 
subverted.  The  Scriptures  were  indeed  recognized  to 
contain  all  that  is  essential  in  Christian  truth  to  know  ; 
but  they  still  allowed  great  latitude  of  belief,  and  contra 
dictory  creeds  were  drawn  from  the  same  great  authority. 
If  the  Bible  was  to  be  the  salvation  of  man,  or  the  great 
thesaurus  of  religious  truth,  it  was  necessary  to  systema 
tize  and  generalize  its  great  doctrines,  both  to  oppose  dan 
gerous  heathen  customs  and  heretical  opinions  in  the 
church  itself.  And  more  even  than  this,  to  set  forth  a 
standard  of  faith  for  all  the  ages  which  were  to  come ;  not 
an  arbitrary  system  of  dogmas,  but  those  which  the  Script 
ures  most  directly  and  emphatically  recognized.  Christian 
life  had  been  set  forth  by  the  martyrs  in  the  various  forms 
of  teaching,  in  the  worship  of  God,  in  the  exercise  of  those 
virtues  and  graces  which  Christ  had  enjoined,  in  benevo 
lence,  in  charity,  in  faith,  in  prayer,  in  patience,  in  the 
different  relations  of  social  life,  in  the  sacraments,  in  the 
fasts  and  festivals,  in  the  occupations  which  might  be  prof 
itably  and  honorably  carried  on.  But  Christianity  influenced 
thought  and  knowledge  as  well  as  external  relations.  It 
did  not  declare  a  rigid  system  of  doctrines  when  first  pro 
mulgated.  This  was  to  be  developed  when  the  necessity 
required  it.  For  two  centuries  there  were  but  few  creeds, 
and  these  very  simple  and  comprehensive.  Speculation 
had  not  then  entered  the  ranks,  nor  the  pagan  spirit  of 
philosophy.  There  was  great  unity  of  belief,  and  this 
centered  around  Christ  as  the  Redeemer  and  Saviour  of 


595 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Elaboration  of  Doctrine. 

the   world.      But,   in   process   of  time,    Christianity   was 
forced  to  contend   with  Judaism,   with   Orientalism,  and 
with  Greek  speculation,  as  these  entered  into  the  church 
itself,  and  were  more  or  less  embraced  by  its  members. 
With  downright  Paganism  there   was  a  constant  battle  ; 
but   in   this   battle   all   ranks   of  Christians   were   united 
too-ether.     They  were  not  distracted  by  any  controversies 
whether  idolatry   should  be  or  should  not  be  tolerated. 
But  when  Gnostic  principles  were  embraced  by  good  men, 
those  which,  for  instance,  entered  into  monastic  or  ascetic 
life,  it  was  necessary  that  some  great  genius  should  arise 
and  expose  their  oriental  origin,  and  lay  down  the  Chris 
tian  law  definitely  on  that  point.     So  when  Manichansm, 
and  Arianism,  and  other  heretical  opinions,  were  defended 
and  embraced  by  the  Christians  themselves,  the  fathers 
who  took  the  side  of  orthodoxy  in  the  great  controversies 
which  arose,  rendered  important  services  to  all  subsequent 
generations,  since  never,  probably,  were  those  subtle  ques 
tions  pertaining  to  the  Trinity,  and  the  human  nature  of 
Christ,  and   predestination,  and  other  kindred  topics,  dis 
cussed  with  so  much  acumen  and  breadth.     They  occu 
pied  the  thoughts  of  the  whole  age,  and  emperors  entered 
into  the  debates  on  theological  questions  with  an  interest 
exceeding  that  of  the  worldly  matters  which  claimed  their 
peculiar  attention.     It  is  not  easy  for  Christ.ans  of  this 
U,  when  all  the  great  doctrines  of  faith  are  settled,  to 
^preciate  the  prodigious  excitetaent  which  their  discus 
sion  called  forth  in  the  times  of  Athanasius  and  Augustine. 
The  whole  intellect  of  the  age  was  devoted  to  theological 
inquiries.     Everybody  talked  about  them,  and  they  were 
the  common  theme  on  all  public  occasions.     If  discussion, 
of  subjects  which  once  had  such  universal  fascination  can 
never  return  again,  if  they  are  passed  like  Olymp.c  games, 
or  the  discussions  of  Athenian  schools  of  philosophy,  or 
the  sports  of  the  Colosseum,  or  the  oracles  of  Dodona,  or 
the  bulls  of  mediaeval  popes,  or  the  contests  of  the  tour- 


596  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

nament,  or  the  "  field  of  the  cloth  of  gold,"  they  still  have 
a  historical  charm,  and  point  to  the  great  stepping-stones 
of  human  progress.  If  they  are  really  grand  amrimpor- 
tant  ideas,  which  they  claimed  to  be,  they  will  continue  to 
move  the  most  distant  generations.  If  they  are  merely 
dialectical  deductions,  they  are  among  the  pn.foandest 
efforts  of  reason  in  the  Christian  schools  of  philosophy. 

We    cannot,    of  course,    enter   into    the    controve  sies 
through  which  the  church  elaborated  the  system  of  doc 
trines    now  generally  received,    nor    describe    those  great 
men  who  gave  such  dignity  to  theological  inquiries.    Clem 
ent  was  raised  up  to  combat  the  Gnostics,  Athanasius  to 
head  off  the  alarming  spread  of  Arianism,  and  Augustine 
to  proclaim  the  efficacy  of  divine  grace  against  the  Pelagi 
ans.     The  treatises  of  these  men  and  of  other  great  lights 
on  the  Trinity,  on  the  incarnation,  and  on  original  sin,  "had 
as  great  an  influence  on  the  thinking  of  the  age  and  of 
succeeding  ages,  as  the  speculations  of  Plato,  o*  the  syl 
logisms  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  or  the  theories  of  Kepler,  or 
the  expositions  of  Bacon,  or  the  deductions  of  Newton'  or 
the  dissertations  of  Burke,  or  the  severe  irony  of  Pascal. 
They  did  not  create  revolutions,  since  they  did  not  labor 
to  overturn,  but  they  stimulated  the  human  faculties,  and 
conserved    the    most    valued    knowledge.     Their   definite 
opinions  became  the  standard  of  faith  among  the  eastern 
Christians,  and  were  handed  down  to  the  Germanic  bar 
barians.     They  were  adopted  by  the  Catholic  church,  and 
preserved  unity  of  belief  in  ages  of  turbulence  and  super 
stition.     One   of  the  great  recognized  causes  of  modern 
civilization  was  the  establishment  of  universities.     In  these 
the  great  questions  which  the  fathers  started  and  elabor 
ated   were  discussed   with    renewed  acumen.     Had  there 
been  no  Origen,  or  Tertullian,  or  Augustine,  there  would 
have  been  no  Anselm,  or  Abelard,  or  Erigena.     The  spec 
ulations   and  inquiries    of  the    Alexandrian    divines   con 
trolled  the   thinking  of  Europe  for  one  thousand  years, 


CHAP,  xiv.]  Music  and  Poetry.  597 

and  gave  that  intensely  theological  character  to  the  liter 
ature  of  the  Middle  Ages,  directing  the  genius  of  Dante 
as  well  as  that  of  Bernard.  Their  influence  on  Calvin 
was  as  marked  as  on  Bossuet.  Pagan  philosophy  had 
no  charm  like  the  great  verities  of  the  Christian  faith. 
Augustine  and  Athanasius  threw  Plato  and  Aristotle  into 
the  shade.  Nothing  more  preeminently  marked  the  great 
divines  whom  the  Reformation  produced,  than  the  discus 
sion  of  the  questions  which  the  fathers  had  systematized 
and  taught.  Nor  was  the  interest  confined  to  divines. 
Louis  XIV.  discussed  free  will  and  predestination  with 
Racine  and  Fenelon,  even  as  the  courtiers  of  Louis  XV. 
discussed  probabilities  and  mental  reservations.  And  in 
New  England,  at  Puritan  firesides,  the  passing  stranger  in 
the  olden  times,  when  religion  was  a  life,  entered  into 
theological  discussions  with  as  much  zest  as  he  now  would 
describe  the  fluctuations  of  stocks  or  passing  vanities  of 
crinoline  and  hair  dyes.  Nor  is  it  one  of  the  best  signs  of 
this  material  age  that  the  interest  in  the  great  questions 
which  tasked  the  intellects  of  our  fathers  is  passing  away. 
But  there  is  a  mighty  permanence  in  great  ideas,  and  the 
time,  we  trust,  will  come  again  when  indestructible  certi 
tudes  will  receive  more  attention  than  either  politics  or 
fashions. 

The  influence  of  the  fathers  is  equally  seen  in  the  music 
and  poetry  which  have  come  down  from  their  times.  The 
church  succeeded  to  an  inheritance  of  religious  lyrics  un 
rivaled  in  the  history  of  literature.  The  Magnificat  and 
the  Nunc  dimittis  were  sung  from  the  earliest  Christian 
ages.  The  streets  of  the  eastern  cities  echoed  to  the  se 
ductive  strains  of  Arius  and  Chrysostom.  Flavian  and 
Diodorus  introduced  at  Antioch  the  antiphonal  chant, 
which,  improved  by  Ambrose,  and  still  more  by  Gregory, 
became  the  joy  of  blessed  saints  in  those  turbulent  ages, 
when  singing  in  the  choir  was  the  amusement  as  well  as 
the  duty  of  a  large  portion  of  religious  people.  So  nu- 


598  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

merous  were  the  hymns  of  Ambrose,  Hilary,  Augustine, 
and  others,  that  they  became  the  popular  literature  of 
centuries,  and  still  form  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the 
service  of  the  Catholic  church.  Who  can  estimate  the 
influence  of  hymns  which  have  been  sung  for  fifty  succes 
sive  generations  ?  What  a  charm  is  still  attached  to  the 
mediseval  chants  I  The  poetry  of  the  early  church  is  pre 
served  in  those  sacred  anthems.  They  inspired  the  barba 
rians  with  enthusiasm,  even  as  they  had  kindled  the  rap 
ture  of  earlier  Christians  in  the  church  of  Milan.  The 
lyrical  poets  are  immortal,  and  exert  a  wide-spread  influ 
ence.  The  fervent  stanzas  of  Watts,  of  Steele,  of  Wesley, 
of  Heber,  are  sung  from  generation  to  generation.  The 
hymns  of  Luther  are  among  the  most  valued  of  his  various 
works.  "  From  Greenland's  icy  mountains  "  —  that  sacred 
lyric  —  shall  live  as  long  as  the  "  Elegy  in  a  Country 
Church-yard,"  or  the  "  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,"  yea, 
shall  survive  the  u  Night  Thoughts,"  and  the  "  Course  of 
Time."  There  is  nothing  in  Grecian  or  Roman  poetry 
that  fills  the  place  of  the  psalmody  of  the  early  church. 
The  songs  of  Ambrose  were  his  richest  legacy  to  triumph 
ant  barbarians,  consoling  the  monk  in  his  dreary  cell  and 
the  peasant  on  his  vine-clad  hills,  speaking  the  sentiment  of 
a  universal  creed,  and  consecrating  the  most  tender  recol 
lections.  So  that  Christian  literature,  in  its  varied  aspects, 
its  exegesis,  its  sermons,  its  creeds,  and  its  psalmody,  if 
not  equal  in  artistic  merit  to  the  classical  productions  of 
antiquity,  have  had  an  immeasurable  influence  on  human 
thought  and  life,  not  in  the  Roman  world  merely,  but  in 
all  subsequent  ages. 

But  the  great  truths  which  the  fathers  proclaimed  in 
reference  to  the  moral  and  social  relations  of  society  are 
still  more  remarkable  in  their  subsequent  influence. 

The  great  idea  of  Christian  equality  struck  at  the  root 
of  that  great  system  of  slavery  which  was  one  of  the  main 
causes  of  the  ruin  of  the  empire.  Christianity  did  not 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Social  Equality.  599 

break  up  slavery  ;  it  might  never  have  annihilated  it  under 
a  Roman  rule,  but  it  protested  against  it  so  soon  as  it  was 
clothed  with  secular  power.  As  in  the  sight  of  heaven 
there  is  no  distinction  of  persons,  so  the  idea  of  social 
equality  gained  ground  as  the  relations  of  Christianity  to 
practical  life  were  understood.  The  abolition  of  slavery, 
and  the  general  amelioration  of  the  other  social  evils  of 
life,  are  all  a  logical  sequence  from  the  doctrine  of  Chris 
tian  equality,  —  that  God  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth,  that  they  are  equally  precious  in  his  sight, 
and  have  equal  claims  to  the  happiness  of  heaven.  All 
theories  of  human  rights  radiate  from,  and  centre  around, 
this  consoling  doctrine.  That  we  are  born  free  and  equal 
may  not,  practically,  be  strictly  true  ;  but  that  the  rela 
tions  of  society  ought  to  be  viewed  as  they  are  regarded 
in  the  Scriptures,  which  reveal  the  dignity  of  the  soul  and 
its  glorious  destinies,  cannot  be  questioned ;  so  that  op 
pression  of  man  by  man,  and  injustice,  and  unequal  laws 
militate  with  one  of  the  great  fundamental  revelations  of 
God.  Impress  Christian  equality  on  the  mind  of  man, 
and  social  equality  follows  as  a  matter  of  course.  The 
slave  was  recognized  to  be  a  man,  a  person,  and  not  a 
thing.  Whenever  he  sat  down,  as  he  did  once  a  week, 
beside  his  master,  in  the  adoration  of  a  common  Lord,  the 
ignominy  of  his  hard  condition  was  removed,  even  if  his 
obligations  to  obedience  were  not  abrogated.  As  a  future 
citizen  of  heaven,  his  importance  on  the  earth  was  more 
and  more  recognized,  until  his  fetters  were  gradually  re 
moved. 

From  the  day  when  Christian  equality  was  declared, 
the  foundations  of  slavery  were  assailed,  and  the  progress 
of  freedom  has  kept  pace  with  Christian  civilization,  al 
though  the  Apostles  did  not  directly  denounce  the  bondage 
that  disgraced  the  ancient  world.  It  was  something  to  de 
clare  the  principles  which,  logically  carried  out,  would  ulti 
mately  subvert  the  evil,  for  no  evil  can  stand  forever  which 


600  Legacy  of  the  Early  Church.        [CHAP.  xiv. 

is  in  opposition  to  logical  deductions  from  the  truths  of 
Christianity.  Moral  philosophy  is  as  much  a  series  of 
logical  deductions  from  the  doctrine  of  loving  our  neighbor 
as  ourself  as  that  great  network  of  theological  systems 
which  Augustine  and  Calvin  elaborated  from  the  majesty 
and  sovereignty  of  God.  Those  distinctions  which  Christ 
removed  by  his  Gospel  of  universal  brotherhood  can  never 
return  or  coexist  with  the  progress  of  the  truth.  A  vast 
social  revolution  began  when  the  eternal  destinies  of  the 
slave  were  announced.  It  will  not  end  with  the  mere 
annihilation  of  slavery  as  an  institution  ;  it  will  affect  the 
relations  of  the  poor  and  the  rich,  the  unlucky  and  the 
prosperous,  in  every  Christian  country  until  justice  and  love 
become  dominant  principles.  What  a  stride  from  Roman 
slavery  to  medieval  serfdom  !  How  benignant  the  atti 
tude  of  the  church,  in  all  ages,  to  the  poor  man  !  The  son 
of  a  peasant  becomes  a  priest,  and  rises,  in  the  Christian 
hierarchy,  to  become  a  ruler  of  the  world.  There  was  no 
way  for  a  poor  peasant  boy  to  rise  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
except  in  the  church.  He  attracts  the  notice  of  some  be 
neficent  monk  ;  he  is  educated  in  the  cloister ;  he  becomes 
a  venerated  brother,  an  abbot,  perhaps  a  bishop  or  a  pope. 
Had  he  remained  in  service  to  a  feudal  lord,  he  never 
could  have  risen  above  his  original  rank.  The  church  raises 
him  from  slavery,  and  puts  upon  his  brow  her  seal  and  in 
his  hands  the  thunderbolts  of  spiritual  power,  thus  giving 
him  dignity  and  consideration  and  independence.  Rising, 
as  the  clergy  did  in  the  Middle  Ages,  in  all  ages,  from  the 
lower  and  middle  classes,  they  became  as  much  opposed  to 
slavery  as  they  were  to  war.  It  was  thus  in  the  bosom  of 
the  church  that  liberty  was  sheltered  and  nourished.  Nor 
has  the  church  ever  forgotten  her  mission  to  the  poor,  or 
sympathized,  as  a  whole,  with  the  usurpations  of  kings. 
She  may  have  aimed  at  dominion,  like  Hildebrand  and 
Innocent  III.,  but  it  was  spiritual  domination,  control  of  the 
mind  of  the  world.  But  she  ever  sympathized  with  op- 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Equality  of  the  Sexes.  601 

pressed  classes,  like  Becket,  even  as  he  defied  the  temporal 
weapons  of  Henry  II.  The  Jesuits,  even,  respected  the 
dignity  of  the  poor.  Their  errors  were  trust  in  machinery 
and  unbounded  ambition,  but  they  labored  in  their  best 
ages  for  the  good  of  the  people.  And  in  our  times,  the 
most  consistent  and  uncompromising  foes  of  despotism  and 
slavery  are  in  the  ranks  of  the  church.  The  clergy  have 
been  made,  it  is  true,  occasionally,  the  tools  of  despotism, 
and  have  been  absurdly  conservative  of  their  own  privi 
leges,  but  on  the  whole,  have  ever  lifted  up  their  voices 
in  defense  of  those  who  are  ground  down. 

The  elevation  of  woman,  too,  has  been  caused  by  the 
doctrine  of  the  equality  of  the  sexes  which  Christianity  re 
vealed  ;  not  "  woman's  rights  "  as  interpreted  by  infidels  ; 
not  the  ignoring  of  woman's  destiny  of  subservience  to 
man,  as  declared  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  and  by  St.  Paul, 
but  her  glorious  nature  which  fits  her  for  the  companion 
ship  of  man.  Heathendom  reduces  her  to  slavery,  depen 
dence,  and  vanity.  Christianity  elevates  her  by  developing 
her  social  and  moral  excellences,  her  more  delicate  nature, 
her  elevation  of  soul,  her  sympathy  with  sorrow,  her  tender 
and  gracious  aid.  The  elevation  of  woman  did  not  come 
from  the  natural  traits  of  Germanic  barbarians,  but  from 
Christianity.  Chivalry  owes  its  bewitching  graces  to  the 
influence  of  Christian  ideas.  Clemency  and  magnanimity, 
gentleness  and  sympathy,  did  not  spring  from  German 
forests,  but  the  teachings  of  the  clergy.  Veneration  for 
woman  was  the  work  of  the  church,  not  of  pagan  civiliza 
tion  or  Teutonic  simplicity.  The  equality  of  the  sexes  was 
acknowledged  by  Jerome  when  he  devoted  himself  to  the 
education  of  Roman  matrons,  and  received  from  the  hand 
of  Paula  the  means  of  support  while  he  labored  in  his  cell 
at  Bethlehem.  How  much  more  influential  was  Fabiola 
or  Marcella  than  Aspasia  or  Phryne  !  It  was  woman  who 
converted  barbaric  kings,  and  reigned,  not  by  personal 
charms,  like  Eastern  beauties,  but  by  the  solid  virtues  of 


602  Legacy  of  the  Early  Church.        [CHAP.  XIV. 

the  heart.  Woman  never  occupied  so  proud  a  position  in 
an  ancient  palace  as  in  a  feudal  castle.  When  Paula 
visited  the  East,  she  was  welcomed  by  Christian  bishops, 
and  the  proconsul  of  Palestine  surrendered  his  own  palace 
for  her  reception,  not  because  she  was  high  in  rank,  but 
because  her  virtues  had  gone  forth  to  all  the  world  ;  and 
when  she  died,  a  great  number  of  the  most  noted  people 
followed  her  body  to  the  grave  with  sighs  and  sobs.  The 
sufferings  of  the  female  martyrs  are  the  most  pathetic  ex 
hibitions  of  moral  greatness  in  the  history  of  the  early 
church.  And  in  the  Middle  Ages,  whatever  is  most  truly 
glorious  or  beautiful  can  be  traced  to  the  agency  of  woman. 
Is  a  town  to  be  spared  for  a  revolt,  or  a  grievous  tax  re 
mitted,  it  is  a  Godiva  who  intercedes  and  prevails.  Is  an 
imperious  priest  to  be  opposed,  it  is  an  Ethelgiva  who  alone 
dares  to  confront  him  even  in  the  king's  palace.  It  is 
Ethelburga,  not  Ina,  who  reigns  among  the  Saxons  —  not 
because  the  king  is  weak,  but  his  wife  is  wiser  than  he. 
A  mere  peasant-girl,  inspired  with  the  sentiment  of  patriot 
ism,  delivers  a  whole  nation,  dejected  and  disheartened,  for 
such  was  Joan  of  Arc.  Bertha,  the  slighted  wife  of  Henry, 
crosses  the  Alps  in  the  dead  of  winter,  with  her  excommu 
nicated  lord,  to  remove  the  curse  which  deprived  him  of 
the  allegiance  of  his  subjects.  Anne,  Countess  of  War 
wick,  dresses  herself  like  a  cook-maid  to  elude  the  visits  of 
a  royal  duke,  and  Ebba,  abbess  of  Coldingham,  cuts  off  her 
nose,  to  render  herself  unattractive  to  the  soldiers  who 
ravage  her  lands.  Philippa,  the  wife  of  the  great  Ed 
ward,  intercedes  for  the  inhabitants  of  Calais,  and  the  town 
is  spared. 

The  feudal  woman  gained  respect  and  veneration  be 
cause  she  had  the  moral  qualities  which  Christianity  de 
veloped.  If  she  entered  with  eagerness  into  the  pleasures 
of  the  chase  or  the  honor  of  the  banquet,  if  she  listened 
with  enthusiasm  to  the  minstrel's  lay  and  the  crusader's 
tale,  her  real  glory  was  her  purity  of  character  and  un- 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Elevation  of  Woman.  603 

sullied  fame.  In  ancient  Rome  men  were  driven  to  the 
circus  and  the  theatre  for  amusement  and  for  solace,  but 
among  the  Teutonic  races,  when  converted  to  Christianity, 
rough  warriors  associated  with  woman  without  seductive 
pleasures  to  disarm  her.  It  was  not  riches,  nor  elegance  of 
manners,  nor  luxurious  habits,  nor  exemption  from  stern 
and  laborious  duties  which  gave  fascination  to  the  Chris 
tian  woman  of  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  her  sympathy, 
her  fidelity,  her  courage,  her  simplicity,  her  virtues,  her 
noble  self-respect,  which  made  her  a  helpmeet  and  a  guide. 
She  was  always  found  to  intercede  for  the  unfortunate, 
and  willing  to  endure  suffering.  She  bound  up  the  wounds 
of  prisoners,  and  never  turned  the  hungry  from  her  door. 
And  then  how  lofty  and  beautiful  her  religious  life.  His 
tory  points  with  pride  to  the  religious  transports  and  spirit 
ual  elevation  of  Catharine  of  Sienna,  of  Margaret  of  Anjou, 
of  Gertrude  of  Saxony,  of  Theresa  of  Spain,  of  Elizabeth 
of  Hungary,  of  Isabel  of  France,  of  Edith  of  England. 
How  consecrated  were  the  labors  of  woman  amid  feudal 
strife  and  violence.  Whence  could  have  arisen  such  a 
general  worship  of  the  Virgin  Mary  had  not  her  beatific 
loveliness  been  reflected  in  the  lives  of  the  women  whom 
Christianity  had  elevated  ?  In  the  French  language  she 
was  worshiped  under  the  feudal  title  of  Notre  Dame,  and 
chivalrous  devotion  to  the  female  sex  culminated  in  the 
reverence  which  belongs  to  the  Queen  of  Heaven.  And 
hence  the  qualities  ascribed  to  her,  of  Virgo  Fidelis,  Mater 
Castissima,  Consolatrix  Afflictorum,  were  those  to  which 
all  lofty  women  were  exhorted  to  aspire.  The  elevation 
of  woman  kept  pace  with  the  extension  of  Christianity. 
Veneration  for  her  did  not  arise  until  she  showed  the 
virtues  of  a  Monica  and  a  Nonna,  but  these  virtues  were 
the  fruit  of  Christian  ideas  alone. 

We  might  mention  other  ideas  which  have  entered  .into 
our  modern  institutions,  such  as  pertain  to  education, 
philanthropy,  and  missionary  zeal.  The  idea  of  the  church 


604  Legacy  of  the  Early   Church.         [CHAP.  xiv. 

itself,  of  an  esoteric  band  of  Christians  amid  the  tempta 
tions  of  the  world,  bound  together  by  rules  of  discipline  as 
well  as  communion  of  soul,  is  full  of  grandeur  and  beauty. 
And  the  unity  of  this  church  is  a  sublime  conception,  on 
which  the  whole  spiritual  power  of  the  popes  rested  when 
they  attempted  to  rule  in  peace  and  on  the  principles  of 
eternal  love.  However  perverted  the  idea  of  the  unity 
of  the  church  became  in  the  Middle  Ages,  still  who  can 
deny  that  it  was  the  mission  of  the  church  to  create  a 
spiritual  power  based  on  the  hopes  and  fears  of  a  future 
life  ?  The  idea  of  a  theocracy  forms  a  prominent  part  of 
the  polity  of  Calvin,  as  of  Hildebrand  himself.  It  is  the 
basis  of  his  legislation.  He  maintained  it  was  long  con 
cealed  in  the  bosom  of  the  primitive  church,  and  was  grad 
ually  unfolded,  though  in  a  corrupt  form,  by  the  popes,  the 
worthiest  of  whom  kept  the  idea  of  a  divine  government 
continually  in  view,  and  pursued  it  with  a  clear  knowledge 
of  its  consequences.  And  those  familiar  with  the  lofty 
schemes  of  Leo  and  Gregory,  will  appreciate  their  efforts 
in  raising  up  a  power  which  should  be  supreme  in  barbar 
ous  ages,  and  preserve  what  was  most  to  be  valued  of  the 
old  civilization.  The  autocrat  of  Geneva  clung  to  the 
necessity  of  a  spiritual  religion,  and  aimed  to  realize  that 
which  the  Middle  Ages  sought,  and  sought  in  vain,  that 
the  church  must  always  remain  the  mother  of  spiritual 
principles,  while  the  state  should  be  the  arm  by  which  those 
principles  should  be  enforced.  Like  Hildebrand,  he  would, 
if  possible,  have  hurled  the  terrible  weapon  of  excommuni 
cation.  In  cutting  men  off  from  the  fold,  he  would  also 
have  cut  them  off  from  the  higher  privileges  of  society. 
He  may  have  carried  his  views  too  far,  but  they  were 
founded  on  the  idea  of  a  church  against  which  the  gates 
of  hell  could  not  prevail.  Who  can  estimate  the  immeas 
urable  influence  of  such  an  idea,  which,  however  per 
verted,  will  ever  be  recognized  as  one  of  the  great  agencies 
of  the  world  ?  A  church  without  a  spiritual  power,  is  in- 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Labors  of  the  Fathers.  605 

conceivable  ;  nor  can  it  pass  away,  even  before  the  mate 
rial  tendencies  of  a  proud  and  rationalistic  civilization.  It 
will  assert  its  dignity  when  thrones  and  principalities  shall 
crumble  in  the  dust. 

Such  are  among  the  chief  ideas  which  the  fathers  taught, 
and  which  have  entered  even  into  the  modern  institutions 
of  society,  and  form  the  peculiar  glory  of  our  civilization. 
When  we  remember  this,  we  feel  that  the  church  has  per 
formed  no  mean  mission,  even  if  it  did  not  save  the  Roman 
empire.  The  glory  of  warriors,  of  statesmen,  of  artists,  of 
philosophers,  of  legislators,  and  of  men  of  science  and  liter 
ature  in  the  ancient  world,  still  shines,  and  no  one  would 
dim  it,  or  hide  it  from  the  admiration  of  mankind.  But 
the  purer  effulgence  of  the  great  lights  of  the  church 
eclipses  it  all,  and  will  shine  brighter  and  brighter,  until 
the  seed  of  the  woman  shall  bruise  the  serpent's  head. 
This  is  the  true  sun  which  shall  dissipate  the  shadows  of 
superstition  and  ignorance  that  cover  so  great  a  portion  of 
the  earth,  and  this  shall  bring  society  into  a  healthful  glow 
of  unity  and  love. 

In  another  volume  I  shall  present,  more  in  detail,  the 
labors  of  the  Christian  Fathers  in  founding  the  new  civili 
zation  which  still  reigns  among  the  nations.  And  in  the 
creation  which  succeeded  destruction  we  shall  be  addition 
ally  impressed  with  the  wisdom  and  beneficence  of  the 
Great  First  Cause,  through  whose  providences  our  fallen 
race  is  led  to  the  new  Eden,  where  truth  and  justice  and 
love  reign  in  perpetual  beauty  and  glory. 


THE   END. 


RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 
TO—*     202  Main  Library 

LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1  -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 

6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulation  Desk 

Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

INTtRLiBRflSV  1  ( 

AN 

Jill    ?  -  ^ 

JJM/U   nr-  /•«*,  ie 

uwv.  ur  bfltfrl"  jjr 

iJA, 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 

FORM  NO.  DD6,  60m,  3/80  BERKELEY,  CA  94720 

©$ 


